Have One On Me
by Lilith Encodead
Summary: All you can do when you're on the wrong side of the looking glass is reflect. But if you look hard enough, the other side will reach out for you. A story of fate, love, revenge and bodysnatching. Alice/Hatter
1. Looking for Loop Holes

Chapter 1

If you have ever been lucky enough to have dreamt the most wonderful dream, and experienced "lucid dreaming" within it, you'll know how Alice felt whilst climbing out of the rabbit hole. If not, then you can not possibly imagine the feeling of freedom and adventure. It is a feeling not unlike when you watch a firework shoot up into the sky, and when the screeching ceases, the very moment before the firework bursts, and every fibre and liquid in your body seems to hold still. Not unlike that, except heightened ten-fold. But of course this feeling doesn't last for ever. It blossoms and fizzles out as soon as you wake up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed, ready for the real world.

Alice had been trying profusely to recreate that feeling in Overland. She knew "The real world" was full of loop holes back to Underland, but they had all been sewn up. The hours Alice had spent peaking down rabbit holes and gazing into looking glasses. She had been staring into her mirror for so long, willing for it to show her a different room on the other side, to such an extent that her mother had been heard to remark: "How can a girl be so vain and still refuse to wear a corset?"

Alice had been confined to her mother's estate since she had returned from her trip to China. Which, despite Alice's protests, had been cut short due to Lord Ascot sending her back to England after just over a forthright into the voyage. Truth be told, Alice had been struggling with almost every aspect of the trip. Firstly, the people Alice was dealing with were men, greedy exasperated men, greedy exasperated Chinese men who only spoke the most basic of English (and the most unpleasant of swear words that they didn't mind sharing with such a lady as Alice.) Secondly, her crew had been extremely unsupportive; they'd constantly look to her for answers she also needed and was certain they already had. Thirdly, Alice suffered from sea sickness (Of course she didn't know that before she set off on the rather long voyage.)

She could handle riding a Bandersnatch with no problems at all, but the ship seemed intent on swaying and shaking the muchness out of her. The Asian climate was also rather intense for a girl who had only graced the rain-cloud-shaded plains of England before (Underland also had quite a cool climate.) The Chinese sun seemed to be trying to melt her into a small bedraggled puddle of Alice. Despite all of this Alice was still determined to get through it. If she could slay a Jabberwockey she could trade with China, right?

But no matter how headstrong she was, her body still got the better of her. When she had only been on the trip for just a fortnight, all the pressure and stress that had been piled upon her seemed to all shift to the middle and top of her brain. The heavy weight pushed and pressed down and down until Alice's vision became distorted and shadows swallowed the room as it slipped away from her. She had blacked out. She couldn't believe it. Alice had never once blacked out in her entire life, until then. She couldn't have been out more than ten minuets, but it was enough to send Lord Ascot into a panic. Before Alice had a chance to lift the drowsiness from her mind she was being dispatched back to England; Special delivery, first class post with a "Fragile. Please handle with care." label attached.

Alice's mother had kept her under house arrest since she had arrived back at the family estate. Although everyone pretended to be sympathetic, Alice could detect a note of triumph in their voices that seemed to say: "I knew she couldn't manage it; that silly girl had ideas above her station." which made there company all the more insufferable. _They_ had all made their feelings rather unsubtly clear: She should have been obedient and predictable and married Hamish; because he was a Lord and he was rich and that was all Alice was supposed to want in life. A rich shallow existence with a man she even didn't like, let alone love.

As Alice stared up at the patterned ceiling from her bed she assured herself for the 54832nd time that she had made the right choice. Not in declining Hamish's proposal, no, she had never needed to rethink that. She needed to assure herself that she had made the right decision in leaving Underland in the first place. The expression on the Hatter's face as he asked her to stay was burned on the forefront of her mind; every time she blinked it seemed to flash momentarily before dissolving into darkness. Why was it his expression that pained her more than the fact that see may never return to that wonderful world? Alice pushed that question to the back of her mind for the 54832nd time and tried to think of something else.

Her mind turned to the inconvenience she must have caused the rabbits on her family's estate. She had lost count of how many times she had poked her head down the rabbit holes and into the rabbits private business in her searches for Underland. If she was a rabbit Alice would feel quite annoyed at someone if they were regularly dipping their head into her home, without knocking or apologising for intruding. So as a form of apology Alice decided that she would make some carrot cake and drop it down the rabbit holes tomorrow and hope that they would forgive her and open up a passage to Underland.

x§x¨x©xªxXxªx©x¨x§x

In the four long hours Alice had been awake she had managed to make a whole picnic basket full of carrot cake with creamy white icing spread on top. She had been awake since six o'clock in the morning after a very short nights sleep, because she had been up all night waiting for the dreams of Underland that never came. She wrapped each individual cake in a napkin and stacked them carefully in the basket before setting out over the meadow gardens of the estate to dispatch her apology confectionary to the rabbit population. As usual she had refused to were a corset that day, but her mother had insisted on twisting Alice's hair into a tight bun using the most garish of hair pins. But as soon she was out of her mothers sight Alice liberated her tangled mass of blonde curls and let them cascade about her shoulders.

The day was clear and bright as she made her way from rabbit hole to rabbit hole tossing her cakes into the earthy caverns, her skirts billowing with every step she took. As she got further away from her house the trees became more dense and untidy. Alice knew that under a rather droopy sad looking willow was the last rabbit hole. She had mapped them out in her mind early on in her search. Alice knelt down and gingerly parted the hanging branches to get a view of the burrow. She reached into her basket and withdrew the last cake and threw it into the black abyss. Instead of the usual soft earthy thud the other cakes had produced this one gave the distinct clunk of a cake hitting something that was not the smooth soil of a rabbit hole. Alice leaned closer to the burrow and squinted to see what was inside. She could see nothing but dense shadow. Alice reached into the darkness and felt around the walls of the hole searching for anything. Suddenly she froze. Her hand had met with something. She walked her fingers across it's top to brig it steadily towards her before lifting it out of the dimness.

It was a small cardboard hat box, no bigger than a trinket box. Dust and grit covered the stained green rather battered looking lid that was a little too big for the box it concealed. Alice tentatively opened the lid for fear that something had taken up residence in it. To her surprise nothing jumped out to frighten her. Instead of any unpleasantness, however, inside was quite a large cocoon. Bright white threads glistening like mother of pearl made up it's exterior. Right down the centre of the cocoon's stomach like bulge was a tear that had been sewn up neatly, as if a machine had done it(far too expertly done for any human hands to have accomplished it). Alice recognised it at once. It was Absolem's cocoon. This package had certainly come from Underland. Alice's heart expanded with joy as she made the connection and allowed a smile to spread across her face.

On the end of the silvery thread that had repaired the burst cocoon was an all too familiar label; but instead of the typed words "Eat Me" or "Drink Me," this label read in flourished scrawled hand writing "Open Me". As Alice lightly stroked its silky edges she thought it would be a shame to pull apart such a beautiful cocoon, but she could never just leave it as it was. She began to pick at the stitches gently, but it was sewn so tightly, they would never budge if she carried on being so careful with them. There was no way around it, she would have to rip it open. Alice followed the stitches to there beginning and pinched the top of them with her forefinger and thumb, the fabric of the cocoon felt like dried glue on her fingertips. She closed her eyes and tore quickly, as if bracing herself for pain.

When she opened her eyes Alice saw that she had torn the stitches clean off and the walls of the cocoon had already began to collapse in on themselves. From within the cobwebby mess a shard of glass glinted in the sun. Alice reached into it and removed the glass which turned out to be a small vial with a silver lid and stopper shaped like an Indian palace roof. The elegant vial was half filled with a bright purple liquid: Jabberwocky blood. Without a second thought, Alice swept all notions of staying with her family from her mind, popped the stopper open and threw the bitter blood down her throat. All light and shadow seemed to burst into smoke and compete for space in Alice's vision. For a moment it looked like the brightness would win but then the darkness swept in from the edges and consumed all but a small spot of light - the top of the rabbit hole. Alice was going back to Wonderland.


	2. Two Sides to Every Looking Glass

Chapter 2

When Alice opened her eyes she saw that she was on her knees, as she had been in Overland, but there was no longer a rabbit hole before her. The Snud to Queast tree stood stunted and twisted in front of her. Alice uncertainly stood up and waited for the world to stop spinning. Gripping the battered hat box with both hands she grinned up at the sky. She had made it. She was back in Underland. But which way to go? Alice was sure that when Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum had been captured by the Jubjub bird they had been flown East to Queast to Salazen Grum where the Red Queen's castle resided. So, thinking logically, Alice deduced that going in the complete opposite direction would take her to the pleasant part of Underland. She dusted off her dress, packed the cocoon and vial back into their box, and began walking purposefully towards the woods where she had met with the Cheshire Cat on her first two visits to Underland.

"Alright Alice," she thought to herself after a good twenty minuets of walking. "You've been searching for this land for weeks, and now you're here. Now you've got to remember why you wanted to come back." Alice looked around the Cheshire Cat's forest. The knurled trees didn't look half as menacing in the day time; and the coppered leaves and colourful mushrooms that decorated the forest floor reminded her of the magical fairytales she used to read as a child. "Why wouldn't I want to return to this wonderland? Everyone dreams of returning to the worlds of their childhood dreams. Don't they?"

"Not everyone." she corrected herself. "Some people are glad to grow up. And we both know that that's not the only reason you came back here. Not the even the _main _reason. You've been dreaming of something else. _Someone _else, haven't you?"

"And I can't see myself admitting it to anyone either."

"If you can't see yourself admitting it, then no one else will either."

"So I know what I have to do now, don't I?"

"Yes you do."

"I have to think up a better excuse for being down here and-" Alice's internal ramblings where interrupted by a disembodied voice from within the trees.

"You're a pretty one aren't you?" Purred the voice.

Alice spun round in the direction the voice was coming from, but could still see no one.

"Who's there?" she called out, although she didn't really expect an adequate answer.

"Such a familiar face, voice and fingernails you have girl. It would do me better to choose someone who is less recognisable. Then I wouldn't have so many problems going up and down the grape vine. But then again I'm bound to have them, the problems that is, with which ever face I choose." The voice was feminine and by no means pleasant. It retained the sound of to ruff knobbly rocks grating slowly against each other as it seemed to dart about the trees, staying nowhere long enough for Alice to pinpoint where it was coming from. She spun round and saw a pair of large syrup coloured cat eyes with no face body or mouth to accompany them. Alice froze. These were not the eyes of the Cheshire Cat.

"Who are you?" asked Alice he voice was still steady.

"Your breast is heaving girl. Do you have inhaling or exhaling problems? Are your lungs too big for your rib cage? I certainly hope not. That would never do. I'd hate to have a crowded chest." Alice noticed she was breathing rather fast, but before she could retort to the invisible figure it interrupted her.

"But then again I guess you were born with it, them, girl. And I am fortunate enough to have the choice to borrow them."

"No you don't," Alice interjected before the unpleasant voice could continue. "Show and explain your self."

"Oh but I do girl." replied the voice, ignoring Alice's demands.

"But I didn't give you my consent to borrow them, whatever they may be." Alice said sternly.

"Consent!" laughed the voice mockingly. "I don't need you consent to take your body girl!"

That last comment made Alice particularly uneasy. "Show yourself. Right now." she command again, this time her voice wasn't as authoritative as she would have liked.

"Gladly," replied the voice confidently. Then slowly a cat's face and body materialised around it's glinting yellow eyes. The cat was a lot slimmer than Cheshire and a lot more ragged . Her eyes were rimmed with dried black and honey coloured gunk. Her grubby pink fur was more an assortment of clumps than a coat. And the fine pale purple stripes that made up a tabby pattern on her hair all seemed to melt into each other as she moved closer holding a vanity mirror with her tale and a small bottle in her paws. Alice looked up into her scratched face, unsure of what to say.

"How did you get those?" Alice asked hesitantly, referring to the scars and new scratches on the cat's face.

"You'll have them in a moment." answered the cat softly in a matter-of-fact, no at all threatening way. She glided ever closer to Alice with an expression of anticipation. Alice backed away and prepared herself to turn and run. The cat seemed to sense this and moved quickly. She thrust the bottle to Alice's lips, with more strength than Alice thought it possable for a cat to posses. It poured the bottle's contents into her mouth and Alice instantly began to shrink as she stumbled back. It was the second time she'd had Pishsalver shoved down her throat. Whilst Alice was shrinking she couldn't move, or otherwise she would have ran as fast as her reducing legs would've carried her towards the tea party, calling for help as she did so. But she couldn't. She was trapped.

The cat held the silver looking glass up to the sun with her tale. A beam of sunlight hit it's surface and glared into Alice's eyes. Flashes of burning colour eased in and out of her vision before, once again, darkness swallowed everything around her.

**A/N Thank you for reading! Please, please tell me what you thought ^_^ (sorry if i spelt Pishalver incorrectly...)**


	3. The Alice Shaped Thing

Chapter 3

Alice woke up dizzy, again. The world seemed to be spinning in an effort to throw her off of its surface, again. Leaves were falling on to the ground to reside with and cover Alice. They somehow seemed larger than before as the setting sun shone through them, making their veiny skeletons stand out against their skins. How long had she been knocked out? Certainly more than ten minuets this time. And where had that horrid cat gone? As Alice went to sit up she felt her stomach growl as a ravenous hunger threatened to necrotise her insides. She had never felt so hungry. But she couldn't feel this hungry, she'd helped herself to carrot cake only a few hours previous. Or at least that was her understanding. How long had she been unconscious? Alice began to panic.

"Alright Alice," she thought to herself. "Just get up. Get up right now." but before she could move a muscle she saw something moving beneath the leaves that concealed her body. Alice held her breath and waited for whatever it was to reveal it's self. And just as she thought she had imagined the movement, it sprung out of hiding; a raggedy pink and purple stripped tale. Alice exclaimed in alarm and tried to scrabble to her feet and away from it. But as she attempted to stand up she fell back into an all fours position, as if her body had forgotten how to stand. Again she tried to get to her feet but this time she fell hard onto her front sending foliage flying everywhere. As Alice hit the ground she heard a glassy clunk and her arms sprawled out in front of her. But they were not her arms, no, far from it. They were pink and hairy and had clawed paws on the end of them. Her eyes widened as she jumped back once again; only to see a furry pink and purple stomach where hers should be. Alice screamed loudly as she wriggled among the leaves trying to escape the various furry body parts. What on earth had that cat done to her?

Violently she threw herself back and again the ground produced a glassy clunk. She rolled over to see what she had hit. Breathing rapidly she shakily parted the leaves, doing her very best not to look at her arms. Underneath was the looking glass the cat had been wielding, except now it had a deep crack running down its centre. Oozing out of the break and edges of the mirror was a thick ink black juice had stank of warm metal. But through the black mess Alice could see her reflection. Except it wasn't her reflection, no, far from it. Staring back at her from within the looking glass were wide golden eyes, yellowed teeth and singed whiskers. A cat's face from within a cat's mirror could only look back at… a cat. Alice lifted up the mirror with _her_ new tail and stared back at _her_ reflection in disbelieve. What had happened to her… ?

x§x¨x©xªxXxªx©x¨x§x

"Did you hear that?" Asked the Mad Hatter, perking up like a meerkat as he lowered his mismatched tea cup and saucer.

"Hear what?" replied Chess, looking up from his empty tea cup which only had a splodge of damp tea leaves at it's base. It was just him and the Hatter at the table that late afternoon. Mallymkun had left in a mood which the Hatter found quite perplexing and the March Hare had retired to his house a fair few hours ago; leaving Chess and the Hatter to puzzle over whether tea leaves could tell the future as accurately as the Oraculum.

"I'm sure I heard a scream a moment ago."

"Are you certain?"

"I'm almost certain."

"Well that's no good…" replied Chess as he turned his tea cup at an angle trying to make out an image in the leafy glop. "To be almost certain, is to be sure you are indecisive."

The Hatter gave Chess an annoyed glance. His all to familiar feline apathy never seemed to let up.

"Alright. I'm completely _certain _I just heard a girl scream in the woods."

"Was it a familiar voice?" asked Chess, still not looking up from his tea.

"It might have been…" the Hatter's brow creased as he tried to recall it.

"Hmm…" Cheshire looked more pensively into his cup.

"Hmm…?" mimicked the Hatter.

"I think I know whose scream that was." replied Chess as if making polite conversation.

"Whose?" asked the Hatter eagerly as he leaned over the table to gaze into Cheshire's cup. Chess studied the Hatter's expression as if assessing whether or not he would disclose his information.

"I think, now don't get too excited; you know I'm not the most accomplished of tea readers," Chess moved the cup out of the Hatter's line of vision. "But, I think it wasAlice."

The Hatter's wide grin could barely contain the joy he felt at that moment. He seemed to glow as he knelt back in his chair and looked lovingly up at the sky as if to say "Thank you, thank you so much!"

She was coming back. His Alice was coming back, just as she had promised. If someone had requested him to Futterwaken at that moment, he would have done so without a second thought. Chess seemed to read this in his face.

"Now, now I told you not to get excited." he said warningly, looking up from his tea.

"Why ever not? Alice is back!" he exclaimed happily.

"There are two very good reasons why you shouldn't get your hopes up." The Hatter didn't seem to be giving Chess much attention. In fact he seemed to be ignoring him as he stared up at the sky.

"Tarrant!" barked Cheshire. The Hatter tore his eyes away from the sky and gave Chess a 'are you still here' kind of look. Cheshire continued: "You said the voice screamed."

"It d-," the Hatter sprung up from his seat as the realisation of the situation hit him. No one screams like that if they're merrily making their way to a tea party. "We simply must go and find her!"

"The second reason being that I'm a terrible tea reader; It might not be her," said Chess gesturing for the Hatter to calm down, but he was having no effect

"Well now you just being indecisive and uncertain and-" For once the Hatter cased his own ramblings before they had time to manifest, and looked fixatedly at a cluster of mushrooms and weeds at the edge of the March Hare's garden. "Did you see that?"

Cheshire turned to look in the same direction as the Hatter. They both subconsciously began to lean forward as they examined the plants with curious yet apprehensive expressions. Something was moving within the grass causing it to rustle tunelessly. The Hatter and Cheshire bent down low crept closer towards it. They moved nearer and nearer towards it until an ear piercing angry hiss emerged of it, causing them both to jump back in alarm. Cheshire began to stalk the hedge again. His fur stood on end as he dragged his fat stomach across the ground, his tale flicking about impatiently. As Tarrant watched him he wondered why Chess would stoop so low to the ground only to make his fur stand up so high. He concluded that cats were above all confusing creatures and wondered no more.

Another hiss came from the undergrowth, this time accompanied by a growl. Then, abruptly, a 30cm tall Alice popped out of the grass. She was dressed in a tangled muddle of white ripped petticoat rags, that hung loosely off her small frame. Caught around her right ankle was a sprig of thorns at looked to be digging painfully into her skin. The Alice-shaped thing broke away from the barbed root and began to wail as blood leaked out of its leg. It began to non-effectively try and wipe the blood away, fully ignoring Chess and the Hatter.

"Alice? Oh my poor dear, what's happened to you? Let me help you." The Hatter reached out and carefully picked the Alice shaped thing up by its waist. As he whisked it over to the table it writhed and squirmed about in his hands, but it did not utter a single word in protest. When the Hatter placed it on the table he studied it worriedly as it stared back him defensively. It's behaviour was most un-Alice-ish. It held as still as possible, not taking its eyes off of the Hatter's, as if the two of them had just entered into a frosty staring contest.

Cheshire leapt on to the table. His fur was still upright and poof-y as he examined the Alice shaped thing with a hostile glair.

"Alice," began the Hatter, but he wasn't sure of what to say; 'I've missed you,' 'Are you alright?' 'What happened to you?' 'Why is it you're always the wrong size?' 'Why are you looking at me like I've just asked you to eat radishes hanging upside-down?' were all possibilities. He decided on "What happened to you?"

The Alice shaped thing just backed away from him as if it felt under threat. Blood dripped from its ankle and seeped into the table cloth as it moved.

"You don't remember me…?" he said quietly as his face fell into despair. He had been afraid that she would forget him again, but he hadn't expected her to forget as soon as this.

Chess moved forward and sniffed the Alice shaped thing. His eyes narrowed. "Alice, why do you smell of smouldering silver?" he asked suspiciously.

It didn't answer. It didn't even look at Chess.

The Hatter produced a bandage from his pocket and went to dress the wound on it's ankle, but it quickly began to back away, shaking it's head. The Hatter was a loss for what to do.

"Are you hungry at all?" asked the Hatter, holding back his sadness. The Alice shaped thing nodded franticly as its defensive front seemed to have been wiped away, as it wore a new childish keen expression. The Hatter reached for a plate of brightly coloured French fancies and laid them in front of the Alice shaped thing. Its face lit up at the sight of the cakes and pounced straight onto the plate. It broke through the icing and dug out fistfuls of cake. It commenced shoving handful after handful into its mouth, coating its face in icing in the process, in a most inelegant and un-Alice-ish way.

"You're certainly hungry aren't you?" smiled the Hatter, but when it didn't respond his face sank back into a gloomy expression. She didn't seem like Alice anymore. What had they done to her in that Overland? Had her answers to those all important questions she had left Underland for made them rinse all the Aliceness out of her?

But Cheshire wasn't going to be deceived by appearances; he had seen this kind of scene before "Who are you and what have you done with Alice?" he growled.

"Chess!" shouted the Hatter in a tone that implied that 'how could you be so insensitive?' would follow. But the Alice shaped thing didn't seem to mind; its only response was to glare at Cheshire over a fresh French fancy.

x§x¨x©xªxXxªx©x¨x§x

Had Alice known how to evaporate like the Cheshire Cat, then she would have disapporated straight to the tea party. But she couldn't and had no idea how. And so she had walked just like any common Overland cat would have done. As she walked she held the looking glass up high with her tail, dripping a black trail behind her. The cat's body she had inherited was riddled with stinging scratches and scabs (and Alice was sure a parasite or two) which made the trek towards the tea party all the more unpleasant. What if she was stuck like this forever? What if that awful cat had her body? Alice tried not to think about what that cat could be doing with it.

Soon the trees began to part and Alice could see the tea party table. But the scene she arrived to was most unusual, even for that tea table. The Hatter was holding Alice's body over the table and at arms length and staring at it with wide sad eyes.

"You're not her, are you?" he said glumly, as if he were unwilling to admit it himself.

Alice's body narrowed its eyes smugly with its arms held out in front of it and its hands hanging limp; as cat's often do when someone holds it up to face them.

"No," she said mockingly putting particular emphasis on the 'O' in a voice that was definitely not Alice's. The Hatter instantly dropped it and it hit the table with a harsh thud. The two of them began to shout over each other; the Hatter getting more and more manic and the Alice shaped thing getting more and more angry.

"Get out of Alice's body you, you…!-"

"You didn't have to _drop_ me-!"

"You body snatcher!-"

"This is still her body you know, -!"

"How could you steal her body?-"

"if you want her to get it back all purple and bruised-!"

"After all she's done for Underland-!"

"I had every intension of giving it back-!"

"And you even made it the wrong size-!"

"After I'd eaten of course-,"

"You, you reckless thief!"

"-Stupid mad man…"

Cheshire turned to see a cat shaped Alice gaping at them, unbeknown to the Hatter. He recognised her Aliceness immediately. Alice looked up at him, hopeing he would see that it was her. She cursed that horrid cat; This was not how she had wanted to be reunited with them.

"Hello Alice," he welcomed her, grinning warmly.

"Hello Cheshire." she replied feeling a little embarrassed.

**A/N Sorry if that seemed a little rushed…**

**The are two good reasons why I'm the thickest person on Fanfiction:**

**No. 1) I started this in the middle of my exams, so the updates might be pretty erratic (But my studies will suffer before this fanfic dose, I swear)**

**No. 2) I lost my copy of the novelisation of the film so I can't spell check the Underland words, sorry.**

**Thank you so much for reading! Every time I get a review I do a snoopy dance, it makes me that happy ^_^ so please review! **


	4. Reliably the wrong Size

Chapter 4

Alice had to admit it was rather strange to see her body without her inside it, acting so different to her. She wondered whether the Tweedle brothers felt the same about seeing someone so similar to themselves. But then again they were never without each other, so to them it might feel strange to **not** see someone so alike. When Cheshire beckoned her up onto the table Alice felt a little hesitant. She didn't want the Hatter, or anyone else for that matter, to see her in the state she was. But she bound up onto the table all the same and sat next to Chess. Still the Hatter hadn't noticed her since he was arguing with her body's kidnapper. He knelt on the table and leaned in close to Alice's tiny body, but it wasn't intimidated.

"What have you done with Alice's consciousness?" he said in a low voice, his Scottish accent coming through ever so slightly. The Alice shaped thing looked back at him in stubborn silence.

"So it's like that, is it?" he continued. As he leaned closer to Alice's body an ashy black colour began to form around his eyes.

"Like what?" retorted the Alice shaped thing aggressively.

"That." He growled, his eyes getting darker. There was less than an inch between the two of them now.

"If you get any closer," the Alice shaped thing warned him "I'll rip out so much of your nose hair, your eyes will water for weeks."

The darkness instantly disappeared from his face as he backed away from the Alice shaped thing, as if its words had burnt him. His thimbled fingers hovered over his nose for a moment. This Alice shaped thing was much better at intimidating him, despite size and stature.

Cheshire signalled with his tail to Alice that she should make her presence known; but she just bowed and shook her head. She didn't know why she was so embarrassed; she didn't usually care about her appearance or what people thought of it.

"Alright," said the Hatter, addressing Alice's body, in a slightly higher voice than usual. "If you won't cooperate, then we must use extreme measures," He reached for a white teapot with an intricate blue pattern of assorted fruit painted on it. The Hatter held it in front of him as if it commanded the same response and respect as a large sword. The Alice shaped thing held back a giggle.

"A teapot?" it said raising an eyebrow.

"No, no, silly thief." replied the Hatter as if talking to a child. "The tea inside is the important thing. And I really would rather not waste it on you. Please tell me where the Aliceness of Alice is; then I shan't have to use it."

The Alice shaped thing blew a loud raspberry at the Hatter, crossed her arms and turned her back to him.

"I'll never tell you. That idiot girl doesn't deserve this body."

At that remark the Hatter went to pour the contents of the tea pot over Alice's body in a manic fury. But before the first drop could creep out of the spout, Chess disrupted him.

"Tarrant, there really is no need for all of this. Alice is right here." Cheshire nodded towards Alice who looked up timidly.

The Hatter carefully placed the tea pot on the table, not taking his eyes off of the real Alice. He came forward and examined her closely; he didn't want to be fooled by another Alice impostor. His brow furrowed and his mouth went considerably smaller with concentration. Alice couldn't help but smile.

"Don't worry. If you were in someone else's body I'd have a hard time recognising you too." She said kindly. But she tried not to smile for fear of the Hatter breathing in some of her cat breath. But he didn't seem to mind: At the sound of her voice his wide amber-green eyes brightened and a calm blissful smile etched its way onto his face.

"It's you. It is undoubtedly and certainly you!" and with that he scooped her up in his arms and hugged her tightly. Maybe a little too tightly for the cat's brittle bones. For that moment Alice felt very small in his embrace. She was always the wrong size for him. Alice gave a little involuntary squeak that signalled to the Hatter that he should probable stop squeezing before something cracked. He carried her to the opposite end of the table and lovingly placed her in the seat next to his.

"Now all we have to do is get your body back." said the Hatter, gesturing with his hands as if he had just precariously balanced something. Alice looked down at her paws, then up to Chess and her body.

"Aw, look. She's embarrassed to be seen in the manky old cat's body." said the Alice shaped thing scornfully, provoking yet another glare from the Hatter.

With those words, Alice realised how girly and immature she was being and tried with all her might to ignore every embarrassed fibre within her as she addressed her stolen body.

"I'm not the one who stole someone else's body just to get out of this one." she replied plainly. "And you said that you'd give it back after you'd eaten, and you have."

"Yes but that was before I was dropped and threatened with a teapot." it retorted like a teenager arguing with its parents.

"You're lucky you were only threatened with it you body snatching, cake guzzling-" began the Hatter.

"Hatter." interrupted Alice, deadheading his ramble before it had a chance to blossom. She then addressed her body. "I'm sure we can resolve this. Why can't you get food like the other cats in Underland?"

"What? Do you mean like this well-to-do fat toff?" exclaimed her body as pointed at Chess; who graciously ignored her insults, knowing that he could have delivered a truly excellent comeback if he so wished. "We can't all just stroll into the Queen's court and be offered a banquet when ever we feel like it." she said contemptuously.

"Yes, but we're not all stealing other people's bodies love." said Chess smoothly as he ran his stubby finger around the rim of his tea cup.

"I don't have to listen to this." said the Alice shaped thing, gesturing with her arm as if throwing the conversation from her mind as she began to head for the edge of the table.

"Yes you do. You're in Alice's body and you're not walking off with it." said Chess simply as he reached for an empty teapot.

"Watch me, you-" but before she could finish her insult Cheshire had sprung into action and trapped her beneath the teapot which could only just contain her. The Alice shaped thing began to shriek and growl as it banged and scratched at the edge of the teapot.

"Let me out! I _really _don't like enclosed spaces! Please! LET ME OUT!"

The real Alice jumped onto the table and walked over to the shouting teapot. And began to speak softly to it; she knew that she would never get her body back by force. Both Chess and the Hatter watched her in curious silence.

"There must have been someone who looked after you before. Someone who cared for you." she said with her mouth to the end of the teapot's spout.

"'Course there was. Now let me out!" said the Alice shaped thing distrustfully.

"Who where they?" Asked Alice cautiously, she didn't want to hit a painful nerve.

"That's none of your business, you prying little girl. LET ME OUT!" the disdain with which the Alice shaped thing had said the words "prying little girl" was venomous, but that didn't deter Alice.

"What happened to them?" asked Alice in a concerned and not at all nosy tone.

"It doesn't matter! Just let me out, before I do something I'll regret!" it growled.

"Not until I get to the bottom of this; what happened to them?" Alice asked a little more forcefully.

"They died, ok? Are you happy now, you stupid little girl?" it shouted. Its growl was barely masking the pain it felt as it spoke. Alice knew it wasn't lying. The atmosphere around the table was so tense the air felt thick as they breathed, waiting for Alice to speak.

"What happened?" asked Alice, her voice shaking.

"The Jabberwockey killed them, along with the rest of the Hightopp clan." said the Alice shaped thing. Its voice may not have been as loud was before but it was still as angry.

The Hatter's face fell into an expression of shock. He felt as if he had just been unexpectedly knocked from his feet. But he didn't say a word; he didn't even seem to be breathing.

"You masters were of the Hightopp clan." Alice breathed, unable to think of something else to say.

"Not a soul came to look for me. No one. I've been rotting in those woods for three years. So maybe it wasn't _fair _that I took your body, but life isn't fair sweet heart." growled Alice's body bitterly.

"But…" Alice paused, afraid of the reaction she might provoke. "Why didn't you just come to see the Hatter for food? He's one of the Hightopp clan too."

"Him?" scoffed the voice from within the teapot "In case you haven't noticed girl, he's a lunatic. I couldn't deal with his madness every day, even if he was my only hope!" the voice spoke as if fraternising with the Hatter was a laughable concept. He tried his best not to show it but Alice could tell that the Hatter was hurt by her body's harsh words. Alice lost a great deal of sympathy for her body's kidnapper at that moment.

"So you'd rather starve than ask for food?" asked Alice incredulously.

"No I'd rather steal you body and trick it out of the mad man, keep up girl." replied the voice in a patronising tone.

"So you did this all just to get food?" asked Alice, getting agitated

"And a nicer body. Surely you've noticed what a wreck that one is by now."

Alice thought for a minute.

"What if we make a deal?" she suggested. The teapot made no sound, so Alice took that to mean that her body was listening. "If you give me my body back, I'll feed you every day and I'll pamper you. That is to say I'll wash and brush your fur and treat your wounds until you body his how it should be. How dose that sound?"

"That sounds like a pretty rubbish deal to me girl. Think harder." said the voice in a smug tone.

"I don't have to." said Alice simply "If you don't agree with my terms that's fine. You can starve in that teapot for all I care."

"You wouldn't do that. I've got your body." The voice didn't sound as confidant as it would have liked.

"Oh, but I would." said Alice realiseing she had the upper hand "If you won't give me my body back, why should it matter to me what happens to it?"

There was a long silence until the Alice shaped thing's voice broke it.

"Fine." it growned. Cheshire lifted up the teapot as he held the cat's looking glass that Alice had left that end of the table in is tale. A grumpy faced Alice shaped thing looked up at him.

"Now if I remember correctly," began Chess, relived that Alice had resolved the situation "There are two ways to reverse the effects of this implement. But first I must enquire as to how you came by it." he asked Alice's body.

"Ah, now that would be telling." replied the Alice shaped thing coyly.

"Fine," replied Cheshire as if he didn't have the energy to continue the desusion. "As I was saying there are two ways this could work. The first, and most commonly used, is to wait until the light of the midnight moon hits the glass, and then shine it into the eyes of the taken body. In our circumstance this would be Alice's body. But I doubt any of us want to wait until the moon rises." Alice and the Hatter nodded in agreement o this. "The second method," continued Cheshire. "Is to break the mirror open and drink the liquid from inside."

"Why is that the least commonly used?" asked Alice warily.

"Because you can not use the implement afterwards and the liquid tastes horrid-"

"And it hurts," interrupted the Alice shaped thing, looking as if she'd just won a small victory.

Alice looked up worriedly at Cheshire. Who said in answer to her silent question. "Yes, it hurts"

"How much?" asked Alice and the Hatter in unison, although the Hatter looked more conserned than Alice did.

"Like hell." said the Alice shaped thing smugly before Cheshire could speek.

On those words the Hatter got up onto the table and walked across it to where Alice sat, sending cutlery and china flying off of the table as he did so. He knelt down beside the real Alice and spoke to Chess.

"Maybe it isn't such a wise idea to swap the bodies just now." he suggested his voice wavouring. At that moment Alice wanted to hug him for his concern, or at least hold his hand. But again she was the wrong shape and size. So instead she gazed up at him lovingly. He couldn't help but smile back at her.

"I don't mind doing it now." she aid bravly "The sooner we get this over with the better."

"Alright then," said Cheshire approvingly, as he raised the mirror above Alice's head. "Open wide."

Alice slowly opened her mouth as Chess tilted the looking glass and poured the black juice onto her tongue. The liquid tasted of warm copper and was searing hot. It burnt her mouth and throat on the way down to her stomach and when it it setteled there she felt like her insideds were melting. When she thought she'd got past the worst of the burning, her brain began to twinge. And then the twinge worsened and worsened until it felt like her brain was being fryed by electric volts. She closed her eyes and scrunched up her face with pain.

"Alice?" said the Hatter quietly, putting a conserned hand on both of her cat shoulders. Her only response was a little squeek of pain, whitch only made that Hatter more anxious. His sparkling eyes widened as he leaned in towards the cat's body. "Alice?"

But when Alice opened her eyes she was back in her own body and looking at the Hatter.

"Over here Hatter." she laughed.

He turned away from the cat and gently took Alice's hand between his thumb and forefinger, and began to walk her acros the table.

"Now everything is as it should be." he smiled happily as the came to the end of the table. "Except for your size of couse, but that's easily put right." said the Hatter as he sat down, leaving Alice in the table in front of him. He reached across the table and brought a plate of assorted cakes to her. His fingers hovered around he cakes until he found the one he was looking for. He plucked it out of the pile and handed it to Alice.

"Upelkuchen, my dear." he said, looking rather pleased with himself.

"The growing cake?" Alice asked and the Hatter nodded in response.

Alice took the piece of cake that seemed oversized compared to her and went to bite into it

"Wait-!" said Cheshire and the Hatter together. But it was too late. Alice had already taken a sizeable chunk out of the cake and her body was swelling up to its normal size. As she grew her petticoat-rag-dress ripped into ribbons leaving her practicaly naked. Enven though Alice managed to cover her indecencies in time, she still found being crouched on the table, naked in front of the Hatter rather awkward. He looked up at her sheepishly, blushing bright pink, before politely averting his gaze.

**A/N: Ok that was a bit long (sorry about that…)**

**I just thought you should know I wasn't being lazy when I didn't specify where the cat got the body swapping looking glass. When the rest of Underland when into battle at the end of the film, the cat snuck into the White Queen's palace and stole it from the vault which was at that time unguarded. The reason I didn't have her say that in the chapter was because, if the Hatter knew that the cat had stolen from both Alice and the White Queen (his two favourite ladies) he wouldn't't have allowed Alice to strike a deal with her. **

**Please, please, please review! I'm so thankful for the ones I have received so far! ^_^ **


	5. I Aught Not

Chapter 5

_I Aught Not_

The Hatter leapt up from his chair and stood bold upright back to back with it, so that he didn't face the naked Alice. Both Cheshire and the ragged cat were sniggering behind her; whether they were laughing at her or the Hatter's reaction, Alice didn't know. She looked up at the back of the Hatter's head and saw that it was still, unnaturally so. A pang of guilt sank comfortably into her stomach when she saw what an awkward position she had put him in.

"I'm sorry, I should have realised." she moaned sincerely as she went to get off of the table, but she soon realised it was impossible to move in a ladylike and appropriate way, so she remained where she was, surrounded by teacups, saucers, cakes and teapots.

"You needn't apologise," replied the Hatter his voice shaking slightly with embarrassment. "For we must concentrate on what to do about your nakedness. Since you are a naked Alice of the good and proper Alice size, you are also unfortunately the wrong size for quick dress making. If you were smaller I could make you a dress quicker than I could pour a cup of tea, but you are much too large for that." his voice then became more panicked, "Not that I'm saying you are of a voluptuous size, no, you are far from it, in both senses, unless you want to be of _it_ in the _other sense,_ far be it from me to-"

"Hatter." interrupted Alice, ceasing his ramble.

"Yes… I'm fine." he said hoarsely.

"And Alice is getting goose bumps." chuckled Cheshire as he enjoyed watching the Hatter get so uncomfortable.

"I do apologise I was unaware." the Hatter replied, his voice wavering.

"How could you have been any kind of aware, you're not looking at her." Chess sniggered.

"That's because it is impolite and indecent to look at her at the moment; And you shouldn't be looking at her either!" he added disparagingly, still not turning round, but Alice could picture the disapproving look on his face.

"Why bashful all of a sudden, mad man?" asked the ragged cat slyly "I would have thought you would have relished the image of Alice's nakedness."

"How dare you!" he exclaimed insulted, whirling round to confront the cat and inform her on where her place was in these matters, and how far she had strayed from it. But as he turned round he placed the nakedness of Alice back into his line of vision. At the sight of her, his affronted expression melted into one not unlike fear as his hollow cheeks began to glow even redder than before. Alice's face was also a little pink as she looked to Cheshire for a solution to the situation; only to see that his and the other cat's bodies were shaking with uncontainable laughter.

"Cheshire, this isn't funny." Alice reprimanded him like a mother to a child.

"Alice is correct; we must be more adult about this." he announced, struggling to contain his mirth.

"Oh," complained the ragged cat, addressing Chess "I was starting to think you were fun. Silly me…"

Cheshire gave her a "I don't have to please you" kind of look and then turned to the Hatter who still had his back firmly to them.

"Tarrant, stop acting foolish and think about this practically." the Hatter didn't respond but Chess could tell he was listening, so he continued. "Give Alice your jacket for the time being, and simply go to your, um, how to put this… abode, and retrieve some of your clothes for her to wear."

"My clothes…" he said pensively. "Yes, yes, of course. How silly of me not to have thought of it before!" he added joyously. He removed his jacket and passed it to Alice. She marvelled at its earthy colours and swirled golden embroidery before putting it on. The purple silk lining inside still retained some of the Hatter's warmth as her cold shoulders came into contact with it, making her skin tingle. She tried to repress the grin on her face to at least a slight smile, but she couldn't.

The Hatter spun round, and when he saw that Alice was at least part decent, allowed himself to smile back at her.

"Alice, would you accompany me to my workshop to pick out some clothing? I only have half finished dresses, so you'll have to peruse my own personal wardrobe to find something to your liking and shape." he held out is hand, but before Alice could take it Cheshire interjected.

"Do you really want to enforce the chaos and disorderliness of your sleeping quarters on poor Alice?" he said in a superior tone.

The Hatter looked up annoyed at Cheshire before retracting his hand. "Well pardon me for not being at ease, with leaving Alice's body alone with an accomplished body thief." he said sarcastically.

"I wouldn't say I was accomplished, but thank you any-" began the ragged cat but Cheshire cut across her.

"She wouldn't be alone! I'll be here to ensure that she comes to no harm." said Cheshire looking a little offended.

"You wouldn't protect her if it would be any kind of costly to you." the Hatter replied incredulously. "You'd sooner hightail it and run, then singe a single whisker for anyone else. You're _slurvish-"_

"That's untrue!" Cheshire exclaimed wide-eyed with shock.

"It's very true. I've never known a selfless cat" retorted the Hatter, tipping his head back so as to look down his nose on the two felines. "You two are prime examples of bodysnatching, cowardly, tea-hogging-"

"Hatter, there's no need for all of this-" interrupted Alice, ceasing the list of insults.

"But it's true!" said the Hatter in a childish tone, thinking that Alice was taking Cheshire's side.

"And it doesn't matter, I can take care of myself." she said assertively. Wrapping the Hatter's jacket tightly around her frame she dismounted the table, cups and saucers clattered as she did so. "Don't you think I can handle a body snatcher with no bodysnatching equipment?" A smile etched it's way onto the Hatter's face.

"Indeed I believe you are more than capable," he agreed "And I do believe you can handle the disorderly nature of my house as well." said the Hatter more to Chess than to Alice. He offered her his arm and she took it, happily nearly skipping at his side.

"How far is your house from here?" she asked as they began to walk towards the woods.

"I wouldn't call it a house." said Cheshire before the Hatter could answer as he glided over to them, with the ragged cat not far behind. "It's more of an extended workshop."

"It's a fine _house,_ and it's only 120 ticks away." said the Hatter firmly as he pulled Alice away from Chess and closer to him.

And so they walked arms linked, through the woods, with two floating cats following them as the sun hit the horizon and retired for the day. Alice tried to think only of Underland and its inhabitants and what awaited her at the Hatter's home, but thoughts of Overland and the real world clung to her brain, determined not to let go. Like an hourglass consistently reminding her that her time in her land of dreams would soon be up.

x§x¨x©xªxXxªx©x¨x§x

The Hatter's house was next to the beaten and leafy path that ran through the woods. It was quite small and quaint, with grubbily whitewashed walls that seemed to slope inwards, making the house look as if it were drunk. Thick sun bleached wooden beams framed and curved with the walls. Every window of the house had been flung open to allow bits of material, clothes, plant pots, hat stands and other junk to spill out of the clearly over packed rooms. The house reminded Alice of the antique and bric-a-brac shops in London, but not one of the successful ones. Above the rounded redwood door was a tiny pointless looking balcony with open glass doors and long purple pattered curtains whipping in the breeze that only seemed to effect them. The garden had no fence and was filled with overgrown unruly weeds and cattails that had grown knee-deep. As the Hatter led her through the thick grass towards the front door, Alice's bare legs were nicked and scratched by thorns from within the undergrowth.

The Hatter went to open the door, but then turned to see the ragged cat hovering expectantly behind him.

"You don't honestly think you're coming in do you?" he said disdainfully, his brilliant green eyes narrowing to a scowl.

"Of course I do." replied the ragged cat in a tone that suggested she was willing to make an issue of the situation. "_She _promised to make me presentable."

"Did she promise to do it under my roof?"

"Well, where else can she do it? Stupid mad man."

"He's not stupid." said Alice sternly before the two of the could start to argue. She then turned to the Hatter "And I made a deal, so I'll have to honour it."

Alice could see the Hatter wasn't at all happy about letting a known thief into his home, but Alice could think of no other option. She gave him an apologetic glance and he opened the door for the three of them with a sulky expression.

The ground floor was one large room that Alice assumed to be the Hatter's workshop. The room was rather crowded with dark wood furniture, all of which were bursting with exquisite materials of dark expensive colours. A dim yellowish light illuminated the space that shone off of the rafters and wood floors. At the far corner of the room was an Victorian style sewing machine painted with pale green and golden flowers. Beside it were many pots and cups exploding with hatpins and feathers of the queerest and most exotic decoration. Alice was brimming with curiosity as she looked about the full draws and half finished dresses and hats. The Hatter studied her expression and as he spotted the delight in her face he felt a feeling of pride swell up within him.

"I could make you a dress tomorrow, if you like." he said over her shoulder. "You could help me pick out the fabric and threads."

"That would be wonderful." she said exultantly as she turned round. She hadn't realised how close he had come to her. She silently held his gaze for just a little too long; to the extent it became almost awkward, before he spoke hurriedly.

"Shall we get you dressed Alice?" he suggested as he led her up the stairs prior to her answer.

Upstairs was the Hatters living quarters. An already lit fire awaited them in the living room that would have given it a worm cosy feel had the balcony doors not been wide open. A red and yellow stained glass door led to the cluttered kitchen on the far left, a dark wood door on the closer right went to the bathroom and the closest door to them led to the Hatters bedroom. Alice went to close the glass balcony doors but the Hatter took her hand away from the brass handle.

"Please don't." he said in a low voice as he held her hand a little too tightly in his "The space feels terribly enclosed if they're not open"

When the Hatter saw the uneasy look on Alice's face he promptly released her hand and spun swiftly into his room, shutting the door behind him; muttering "I'll get you some clothes…" quietly under his breath.

"Fr-eak." said the ragged cat tauntingly as it glided over to the fire. Cheshire settled on the rather uncomfortable looking threadbare sofa, ignoring both Alice and the other cat. Unsure of what to do, Alice examined the contents of the Hatter's shelves. Paperweights, thimbles, safety pins, jewellery, books on dress patterns, wooden and glass boxes, foreign currency and other curious items littered every surface.

"Clothes for Alice." said the Hatter brightly as he emerged from his bedroom, bearing a neatly folded bundle of clothes. Alice took them with a word of thanks and headed for the Hatter's room to get changed.

"Wait! Not in there, there's no room. Well there is a room, but there's no space; try the bathroom." he said, as if there very well may be a problem with getting dressed anywhere in his house.

Alice nodded and disappeared into the bathroom without a word. The Hatter sat down on the sofa next to Chess and sighed.

"You were right. I shouldn't have inflicted the chaos of my workshop on Alice." said the Hatter, as if accepting that his home was more of a workshop than he had once thought.

"And yet you'd happily inflict it on me." replied Cheshire drowsily as he stretched his short arms to their full but meagre capacity.

"I'm inflicting nothing on you." he reaplied with a tone "You came here of your own accord, and you can leave of your own accord if it displeases you so."

"But I'm here now." replied Chess stretching again; only this time he rolled onto his back, his tale curling as he did so. "I guess I shall just have to suffer the you-ness of your abode for the night."

"The me-ness?"

"The temperamental and precarious nature of the place speaks for itself and its possessor." yawned Chess as he closed his eyes ready for a nap. The Hatter gave Cheshire a disgruntled look befor looking up at the ragged cat. She was floating upside-down with her furry bum in the air, as she held the Hatter's pocket watch in front of her face in her tale. She was examining the time at an overturned viewpoint with a borred expression.

"Get your thieving tail off of my pocket watch." he said irritably, as if her touching his possessions somehow dirtied them.

"And what am I to do with it then?" she asked mischievously.

"Put it back wherever you found it." he replied simply.

"Do you even know where I found it?"

"No, b-" began the Hatter.

"I'm just going to put it back in precisely the wrong place, to scramble your poor muddled mind later on." she said delinquently as she eased through the air looking for a good stashing place.

The Hatter made quick and frustrated flourishing gestures with his hands as he tried to think of a way to get rid of the irksome cat. But before he could take action against the thieving feline he heard the bathroom door open. He turned to see Alice, in the light of the dusk sky that shone through the open balcony doorway. She wore his crystal blue jacket he had worn on the Frabjous day along with a pair of his three quarter length trousers and striped oddly socks. The cut of the jacket suited her figure marvellously making her look tall and slim. After years of her mother forcing her into tight dresses and corsets, Alice had never felt this at ease in an outfit before.

"How do I look?" she asked as she gave the Hatter a spin so he could see her from all angles.

He didn't know what to say. It was nice for it to be decent and proper for him to look at Alice again. But what to say to her? Of course he always thought she looked beautiful; the splendour of her platinum hair and pearl pale skin defined beauty itself to the Hatter. Like the divine connecton of light between the stars shone through the dewy cobwebs of the evening projected into one being. One girl, who's smile held more charm than the White Queen's or in fact any maiden's he'd ever known. But he thought he aught not say that. Not now.

"Too magnificent to be wearing my clothes." he said softly after a moments contemplaition.

Alice grinned back at him, unsure of what to say, but she was sure he was just flattering her. "I wasn't sure. It feels a little too comfortable." she said whilst fiddling with the jacket.

"How could anything be too comfortable?" asked the Hatter, perplexed.

"I suppose I'm just not used to it." she beamed back at him.

**A/N Okay, I'm gonna stop there. I could go on for another 2000 words of fluff but doubt you'd want to read that. I guess I've been reading too much fluffy Fanfiction of late, I'm sure it's harmful in large doses and now you're seeing the side effects. I promise the plot will start to kick in in the next chapter (which I hope to get up here soon, fingers crossed) Thank you so, so much to everyone who's previously reviewed! I do just glow when ever I get one, so please don't hesitate and review! ^_^ xxx **


	6. Paint Stripper

Chapter 6

_Paint stripper _

There were many days when Mirana had wished she had nothing to do with the crown. For the business of the palace walls to be of little concern to her, and for the duties of the Queen to mean next to nothing to her. To be blissfully ignorant with a peasant's life for one day would be a wondrous taste of freedom, that she would savour for the rest of her life. She had longed for that luxury between the days of Horunvendush and the Frabjous day, and she longed for it now. Only in the crucial days between the Gribling and the Frabjous day where the Underlandians permitted to study and consult the Oraculum. Throughout the rest of time only the monarch was to behold it, and even then they were not allowed to confide in anyone about it's contents or attempt to alter them in any way. If they where to break this rule then their crown would be instantly stricken from them. Even if they told someone in complete secret, or uttered a word of it to a bullfrog, the crown would refuse to sit on the monarch's head. No matter how many times they placed it and replaced it on their head it would fly off as if disgusted, until cracks began to appear on its surface. And everyone knew that a King or Queen wearing a cracked or broken crown was an untrustworthy ruler.

Mirana had always thought that this was a ridiculous rule; the queen should be able to be honest with her people subjects. But whoever had written the rules of the monarchy had laboured under the notion that "Not telling is the same as not lying." Though Mirana couldn't rewrite the rules, she could curse them until she was snug in her coffin, for how they were about to restrict her. She gazed again at the panel that told of that late evening. Mirana had watched Alice arrive in Underland through the Oraculum throughout the course of that day, and this panel was the last that told of that day. It depicted Alice and Tarrant on his undersized balcony, looking wistfully up at the stars, as Alice made a promise. A vow that would bind her to him and Underland forever. A vow that would set a chain of events in motion, that would lead Tarrant to take Alice to his place of birth, where his heart would break and Iracebeth of Crims' death sentence would be as good as signed. For anyone who killed the Champion of Underland was to be executed, with or without the Queen's orders. As it was written was how it would happen. The uncontrollable force of fate and fortune that seemed to be making a mockery of the White Queen and her kind heart.

Mirana closed the Oraculum scroll, blinking back tears as she did so. Before leaving the room she cursed the rules of the monarchy once again. The two most precious people in the world to her were going to suffer terribly, and she could do nothing about it.

x§x¨x©xªxXxªx©x¨x§x

Iracebeth hadn't been in the Outlands long, but the dead and desolate plains where already taking their toll. The sky's sickly pink colours gave way to the liquid blackness of night, dotted with timid muted stars. Iracebeth was alone. That traitorous snake Ilosovic Stayn had long since slithered into the undergrowth and out of sight, but never out of her mind. He had made sure of that. A seed of his own hatred had been imbedded in her brain, and now fuelled hers. He had only stayed with her for a day before managing to unpick the lock to their hand cuffs and chains with his dagger. But through out that long day he had spared her no mercy in retailing exactly how he felt about her. His voice that had once seemed so smooth and dashing echoed through out her silent hours oily and venomous. He told her that she was a deluded, ugly and stunted woman (physically and mentally) with a head scarcely large enough to contain the malice he felt for her. What a fool she was and how easily he had played her like a dog, always coming to him for a crumb of attention, that she would relish and exaggerate in the most pitiful and wretched ways. How her voice could grate on even the most patient of people, and her subtlety was that of a dumb lumbering bull amongst white mice.

He would never have said those things had they'd won the battle; had Alice never retuned in the guise of Um and ensnared his heart. Thus warping and twisting his mind into the one that had left her in the Outlands to die; tossing her his dagger with the suggestion that she should slit her own throat with it, before the oxygen in the air got sick of her and left. None of that would have happened had her little idiot of a sister, a mad man and Alice not interfered with her perfect life. Because that's what it had been: perfect, immaculately so. Until that pretty little brat Alice had come and crossed wires and tampered with structures, which she had no right to view let alone touch and spoil. Who'd have thought that the little girl, who had come to her land years previous and caused a scene in the court of cards, would have been the same sticky fingered woman who had got her filthy hands all over _her things. The Vorpal Sward, the Bandersnatch and Stayn. She had taken everything and cheated on the Frabjous day. Iracebeth would never forget the help that brat had had from that lunatic Hatter. She knew without it she would have faltered. _

_But Iracebeth wasn't as dim as everyone seemed think and had always thought. As she sat at the base of a deceased and burnt tree twisting Stayn's dagger in her hands, she wasn't pointlessly brooding over the unjustness of her downfall. No. Whilst the Oraculum had been in her possession she had studied it carefully and she had seen what was to come. She had seen that Alice would return yet again. And she had seen that she would end her. The scales of guilt, injury and wrongdoing would be balanced. For at least one day before her death. _


	7. The Golden Rain

Chapter 7

_The Golden Rain _

Alice woke up feeling very solid. Her body was as still as the untouched sand on the sea bed, but her heart was pounding. She hadn't had a dream, let alone one that real, for the longest time. That frightening in a long time.

A crack of light streamed through the barely open door to the Hatter's bedroom. She had gone to sleep alone and woken up alone since the Hatter was supposedly asleep in the front room, after he insisted that Alice have the only bed in the house. But sleeping on the sofa was not without its problems; the most difficult of which being moving a stubborn Cheshire from its centre. Now even though the sofa had a sleeping Hatter on it, it also bore a line of distinct gashes down its back cushions caused by Cheshire's pointed claws.

The sofa was not the only injured party of that evening. When Alice, the Hatter and Chess went to bath the ragged cat she had shown a feeling stronger than reluctance. The three of them seemed to loom over her ominously in the packed bathroom. The Hatter's bathroom was quite small and crowded with multicoloured glass bottles, and so the four of them could only fit with great difficulty. Alice couldn't understand why cats hated water so much, she had been the one who had asked to be cleaned up after all. Didn't she realise that that would entail water? Once Alice managed to run a warm bath and get the feline into the water without it bounding out again, like the counter magnetic force between the wrong side of a magnet, she moved on to the shampoo. But the moment Alice went to apply the soap, the cat's ears flicked back and her expression turned murderous. Before Alice had time to register what was going on, a wet and spiky ball of fury came flying at her with its teeth and claws exposed. Her paws latched onto her face and dug deep into her skin. The claws of her back feet sank painfully into the skin above Alice's collarbones and on the side of her face. Alice's vision blurred as one thick transparent claw caught the corner of eyelid. This all happened within a matter of seconds before the Hatter tore the animal off of Alice and dunked it back in the warm water. Foam and soapy water splashed everywhere as Alice leant against a long wall mirror as she felt her face and chest stinging and prickling. She lifted her hand from her face and saw that it was drenched with dark blood. Her hand pressed on the mirror behind her in an attempt to stay upright, and some of her blood mixed with the condensation, making it look as if the mirror's surface was studded with rubies. Through her shock Alice noticed that the Hatter had been holding the ragged cat under the water for an awfully long time. Then she noticed the crazed look in his eyes and the charcoal blackness that surrounded them; he was trying to drown her. For a moment Alice watched him in utter awe. The strength that came over him when the madness took him seemed to grasp her heart tightly inside of her and cease its beat whenever she glimpsed it. It was something like fear except there was something else to it… something pleasurable.

"Hatter!" she shouted as she and Chess rushed forward to free the ragged soapy cat from his grasp. But as soon as he saw the blood running down Alice's face and chest, the blackness swiftly faded from his eyes, allowing the pale blue and purple to return as the cat emerged from the water coughing and spluttering.

"What the hell was that? You bloody lunatic!" It screeched with a distinct and grating growl at the back of her voice. Cheshire floated over to her and asked her a question, to which she nodded in response.

"Alice, you're bleeding…" said the Hatter quietly as he slowly raised his hands to her lacerations. His face was filled with sincere worry, even guilt.

"My goodness, look at you ." gasped Cheshire after checking that the ragged cat was alright. He glided over to Alice, his eyes wide with concern.

Alice didn't know what to do. Feeling awkward, she looked round the Hatter and at the ragged cat who (to Alice's surprise) looked remorseful for what she had done. "Are you alright?" asked Alice tilting her head to see the cat's face.

"I'm sorry! I just can't control it! I don't go well with water." she blurted out, ignoring Alice's question. The words sounded unnatural but genuine as they came from her mouth.

"Then why didn't you tell me?" asked Alice, concealing the annoyance in her voice well.

"I thought I could handle it." replied the cat hurriedly, realising she had let her guard down.

"Cheshire." said the Hatter oblivious to their conversation. "Could you get some antiseptics please? I'll take Alice through to the front room." Cheshire signalled in agreement and glided through to the kitchen, whilst the Hatter led Alice through to the sitting room, as if she'd just been through a traumatic experience. It was true, he sometimes forgot that this was the girl who had slain the Jabberwocky only a month previous, and not the delicate child from years ago.

"Hatter, there's no need to look so worried." she smiled at him as he sat her down gently. "It's just a couple of scratches."

"The amount of blood all over you says otherwise." he said matter-of-factly as he ripped a clean white handkerchief into strips. "I doubt your body would leak that much blood if you weren't seriously hurt."

"I think _I'd_ know if I was seriously hurt, and my body's been though rather a lot today; it's probably just confused." said Alice, mimicking the Hatter's tone and logic.

Cheshire came in a moment later with a limestone bowl filled with transparent liquid which he then placed on the coffee table next to Alice. The Hatter proceeded to soak the strips of material in the bowl. When he went to dab one of the clothes to Alice's face she raised her had to his and stopped him.

"What's in that solution?" she asked. She didn't want them just putting anything into her wounds.

"Just some antiseptics, and some of my saliva," replied Cheshire. "But it's a wonder I managed to find them; your kitchen is a disaster Tarrant."

"You spat in this…?" said Alice, feeling a little disgusted. But they seemed not to hear her.

"There's nothing wrong with my kitchen." said the Hatter indignantly.

"There's no point in denying it." said Cheshire in a persuasive tone. "If you'd let me tidy it, you'll hear no more complaints from me."

"You will not touch a thing in that kitchen." he said definitely, as if he'd heard this argument before "It'll be impossible for me to locate anything if you do."

"But you can't find anything in there as it is." said Cheshire as if pleading for the Hatter to reconsider.

"And if you tidy it I won't even know where to start." said the Hatter, giving Cheshire a "I will not be swayed by you, cat." kind of look.

"Did you really spit in this Cheshire?" Alice asked, breaking up their little tiff.

"Indeed I did." he replied. When he saw the slightly revolted look on her face he added: "It's a known antiseptic."

The two of them went at it to clean her wounds. Cheshire soaked and cleaned the rags while the Hatter dabbed at her scratches, as gently as the flap of butterfly wings. Alice couldn't help grinning when she saw the careful concentration in his face. The ragged cat sat in front of the fire and watched as they tended to Alice's wounds as her fur dried. To Alice's amazement her scratches were healing incredibly quickly. When Alice asked why that was, the Hatter remarked. "Oh, the magic of cat spit," in an impression of Cheshire's voice.

That night she had retired to the Hatter's bed in a pleasant enough mood, but now Alice stared up at the ceiling with unblinking eyes. The only dream she had had throughout her life was the one of Underland. And that hadn't been a dream. It had been a memory. So what was this dream? An omen? A warning? The future? She was certain that it wasn't another repressed memory. She would have remembered this. Alice pealed herself away from the sheets and got out of bed. Even though she knew it was still night time, she was never going to get back to sleep.

x§x¨x©xªxXxªx©x¨x§x

The Hatter stood on the tiny balcony and gazed up at the stars as his mind played, rewound and paused the events of that day. Alice had only been there for a few hours, but already she'd been shrunk, scratched and stripped. But still she smiled at him; As if it didn't matter that he had brought her down there only to suffer such an ordeal. Or maybe she hadn't realised that it was him, who'd sent Thackery up to Overland to barter with the rabbits of that land, and plant the package in one of the rabbit holes. The hatbox and expertly sewn cocoon should have been a dead giveaway. But maybe he hadn't been at the forefront of her mind when she'd found it.

He knew she wouldn't stay long. She never did. Like a soap bubble; it would glisten and entertain you for a moment, but then it would inevitably pop. And you can't coax a bubble to stay, for fear it would pop earlier than if you hadn't. But still the temptation is always there; to trap it in a cage of your fingers and watch the rainbow lights melt miserably around its surface. The Hatter sighed and watched the moths float about in the light of the moon, moving gracefully but hectically like dust in a ray of sun. He wanted her to stay. He really did. Almost enough to risk her opinion of him, and ask her to stay, and tell her all of the things he'd wished to tell her. But that would be crossing some sort of line. A line that everyone has in their minds. The Hatter wondered where he had acquired his. He certainly hadn't put it there, so someone else must have placed it in his head. He cursed the people who had put the line in his head, and himself for placing it so close to his toes. The Hatter was sure that it was a cat who had placed "The line" in his mind. They seemed to relish in the experience of correcting others. The Hatter rewound back to the tea party of that late afternoon and played the ragged cat's words in his mind: "Him? In case you haven't noticed girl, he's a lunatic. I couldn't deal with his madness every day, even if he was my only hope!" He knew that Alice could deal with his madness on a daily basis, but whether she wanted to was a different matter; and he wasn't about to ask her to either.

Then all of a sudden a rather dazed looking Alice stepped onto the balcony with him. Her skin shone slightly with a cold sweat that covered her face.

"Alice?" said the Hatter, surprised to see her up so late.

"I couldn't sleep." she replied drowsily but brightly. "You?"

"Something like that." he smiled, then asked her: "Why couldn't you sleep? I know that room is rather full, I don't usually have guests you see." (the Hatter thought to himself: "very few people venture into the house of a mad man")

"No, the room was fine." she said quickly as she felt her cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink. The room had been more than fine. Alice had taken great delight in laying in _his_ bed, in _his_ clothes, with _his _smell surrounding her and _his_ voice echoing in her head. As she lay there she remembered all that time she had spent in the Overland trying to recreate the feeling of Underland; had she been in that scenario then, surrounded by Hatter-ness, then she would have been overjoyed.

"I had a dream." she said after a moment, as she leaned on the edge of the balcony.

"Not a bad one I hope." he asked concernedly and empathetically. He knew what it was to be plagued by nightmares.

"Not exactly…" she said pensively. "I've only ever had one dream, all through my life, and then it stopped when I came back here. So it feels strange to have a different one."

"What happened?" asked the Hatter unable to restrain his curiosity. "In the dream I mean."

"I…" Alice wasn't sure about telling him. Then she thought that she was just being silly; she could confide and trust in him. "We were dancing. At a party in the woods, I think-"

"What kind of dancing?" he asked.

"A slow dance with a lot of twirling and spinning." She laughed, she found his boyish inquisitiveness quite endearing. "And I think it was at night, because there were lanterns in the trees. And the White Queen was there, but she didn't look very happy, and she wouldn't talk to me."

"That's very unlike Mirana." remarked the hatter, his brow creasing.

"I'm sure that it's very unlike you to dance slowly as well." she said looking straight into his face as she watched his expression soften. "And after a while of talking to the other party goers, you danced me closer to the shade and…" This was the part of the dream she hadn't wanted to disclose to the Hatter. In the dream he had danced her up close to a shady tree and kissed her passionately, on her mouth and all down her neck. And she had kissed him back of course, as she held his left hand tightly in hers. And as she looked up to the stars… But he didn't need to know that part. "… and then I looked up at the stars and I felt a sharp pain in my left side. It hurt so much that I sank to my knees on the dance floor."

The Hatter's eyes drifted down to look at her left side, as if checking if there really was something there.

"And then?" he asked quietly.

"And then… people started screaming. And then I saw that there was a dagger in my side and a lot of blood. And you held me in your arms, and said everything would be alright. That I'd be okay." Alice looked up at him and saw that he looked very troubled by what she was saying. His bright amber-green eyes where glistening with tears as he hung on her every word.

"And then, the stars fell from the sky, like golden rain shooting down to the earth and all around us. And you shook your head and I… I closed my eyes."

"Then?" he croaked.

"Then I woke up." she attempted to smile up at him, to reassure him that the dream hadn't affected her; but it had, and she couldn't. As her smile faltered the Hatter moved forward.

"Alice, are you alright?" he asked so quietly she could barely hear him. She could feel tears swelling up behind her eyes. Realising that trying to talk was futile, she threw her arms around him and wept into his chest. The Hatter raised his arms slowly up her back, as if afraid he would hurt her. Then settled his hands on her back as he felt her hand clutching at his jacket.

"Don't worry." he said soothingly as he rubbed his hands up and down her back. "It was only a dream, it can't hurt you."

"You don't understand." she whispered through her tears as she looked up at him. "The only other dream I've ever had was real. It was a memory. What…" she almost felt too afraid to say it "What if this one's real too. What if it's going to…"

"It won't." he said forcefully "I'll protect you."

Alice looked up into his face. She trusted him. She believed him. But what if that wasn't enough? What if he simply couldn't protect her.

"Please stay." he said as if he had read her mind; held her face in his hands and stroked her tears away with thimbled fingers. "I'll try and protect you. I want to…"

He trailed off. He was treading very close to the line. But she was his Alice, and it was only his stupid mental line.

"I've missed you Alice," If he was crossing the line now, he was sure it would be lashing him. "And I didn't want you to come back here only to have nightmares and your face scratched and your body stolen. But I promise I can make it better, if you stay."

Alice was trembling and she was sure he could feel it. She had missed him more than she could say, but she couldn't bring the words out.

"You missed me?" she asked shakily.

"'The first time I'd cried from missing someone." There was something like a laugh in the back of his voce as the two of them began to smile.

"Well in that case," she said, taking both of his hands in hers. "I swear to stay as long as you want me here."

The Hatter brought her hands up towards his heart, as the stars remained firmly fixed in their places in the sky; for the time being.

**A/N That was the longest chapter so far, thank you so much for baring with it. I'm especially anxious to hear people's opinions/ reactions to this chapter. So please review, it really does speed up the creative process!**

**Thanks xxx ^_^ **


	8. Cheshire's Echo

**A/N I realise now that I am not cruel. I am soft, squishy and full of pot-pouri. **

Chapter 8

_Cheshire's Echo _

Cheshire and the ragged cat sat in front of a cool and empty fireplace. The grey skies of the morning brought a cold breeze in through the open balcony doors, as Cheshire carefully brushed the ragged cat's coat; tossing clumps of stray hair into the fire place as the knots in her fur thinned. Last night they had both watched from the scuffed and worn armchair as the Hatter and Alice had settled on the sofa for the remainder of the evening, after their talk on the balcony. The felines had pretended to be asleep of course, so as not to disrupt or interfere with the nature of the humans. They had observed in complete silence as Alice curled up small on the sofa and drifted off to sleep. As her sleep got deeper she clung to the Hatter's torso, as if she was afraid something was coming to get her, or him. After a moment of peaceful slumber, Alice had begun to whimper, as the Hatter gazed down at her pained face powerlessly. For he could not tap into her dreams and save her from what ever it was that frightened her so much. He had never felt more useless. Her body had tensed a few times, as a child's does when they're about to be beaten. He could do nothing to pacify or calm her, but she seemed to take comfort in him being there; for every time she moaned, she clutched tighter to him, making sure he was with her.

When her sleep had once again become still and quiet, her body slid down so that her golden head rested on the Hatter's lap. His face relaxed as the relief spread through him, when he realised she was over the worst of it. He'd then lightly brushed the hair from her face to reveal her pale tear-stained complexion. The Hatter's lips moved slowly as he whispered something to her as he lovingly caressed her cheek. The two cats had strained their little pointed ears to try and hear what he was saying, but he was speaking too quietly, even for their accomplished senses.

That morning the ragged cat stared up at the two sleeping forms in front of her; and a sense of nosiness crept into her mind. She turned her head to catch Cheshire's eye.

"Cheshire?" she asked in a more civil tone than usual.

"Yes love?" he said pleasantly, as he tossed another piece of her moulted fur into the fireplace.

"What's between those two?" she nodded towards the sleeping Hatter and Alice.

"Whatever do you mean?" he replied, not looking up from his task.

"You know what I mean." she replied in her usual defensive tone. She wasn't willing to dance around the subject.

"I'm afraid I don't." he chuckled, enjoying teasing her. "You'll have to spell it out for me."

The ragged cat turned her head away and her nose up at him. "I know you want to discuss it as much as I do; so don't play games."

"Oh, alright." Cheshire sighed, smiling astutely at her. He realised that he couldn't toy with this creature as he could with the Hatter. "I believe that they are in love, and always have been."

"I know that, it's as obvious as your bulging belly-"

"It doesn't bulge." Cheshire gasped, affronted "It is a majestic stomach, of the correct size for a feline of my stature." he said proudly, holding the hairbrush to his heart in salute to his tummy.

"Whatever." she aid dismissively "Why aren't they together?"

"Because Tarrant is a fool, and Alice is a female, and they never say what they truly mean or feel." remarked Cheshire as if their situation was piteous.

"Some of us females are upfront and honest." she said, feeling a little offended by his stereotype. "We're not all ditzy blonds, who don't know our own feelings."

"You don't." said Cheshire simply.

"I do!"

"You don't."

"How do you know then?" she asked, confident he wouldn't be able to back up his accusation.

"Because you still haven't admitted that you are helplessly attracted to me." He grinned boastingly, joking of course. But the ragged cat took it all too seriously.

"What?" She exclaimed angrily.

"It's because I just ooze charm-" he began, but before he could continue inflating his ego, the ragged cat rolled over onto her back and kicked Cheshire's large stomach with both of her hind legs.

"Shut up!" she growled.

The sleeping Alice gave a little moan, as if she were about to stir from her slumber. Cheshire, having jumped back a couple of feet, made submissive gestures as the two cats physically agreed to be quiet, for the sake of the snoozing humans. Cheshire waited for the ragged cat to lie back down on her front, before he started to groom her fur again. Just as the mood seemed to settle, her ears flicked back and she tuned to scowl at Chess.

"And don't call me love."

"I won't." replied obediently.

"Ever again." she added warningly.

x§x¨x©xªxXxªx©x¨x§x

Alice sat cross-legged on one of the crowded tables in the Hatter's workshop, as he riffled through the cupboards and draws, looking for a suitable fabric for her dress. Each time he produced a piece of material he thought he might use; he would hold it up to Alice and ask her opinion. But before she could answer, he would then look at it in contrast with her; and sling it back into the darkness of the cupboards, as if he thought it had been trying to deceive him. Alice on the other hand, had been enchanted by nearly every scrap of fabric within the room. Their vibrant colours and intricate patterns were almost native to her, after being surrounded by the drab listless creams and pinks of Overland for so long.

After nearly an hour of searching the Hatter had gutted and refilled nearly every storage space in the room, and was beginning to loose his patience.

"Why is it that I never noticed how many vulgar fabrics, I've accumulated here?" he exclaimed as he glanced about the room, giving it a disheartened stare, as if trying to make it feel guilty.

"What do you mean "vulgar"?" asked Alice, surprised that anyone could call such brilliant materials vulgar. "I think they're wonderful."

"No, they're not." he said irritably, talking more to the fabrics than to Alice. "They're making no attempt to conceal there imperfections or foibles."

"Well, I don't believe you can fault honest fabrics." said Alice sweetly, as if trying to console the materials and say: "Don't worry the Hatter still loves you."

"But they aren't honest you see," said the Hatter knowingly. "They pretend to be pleasant and upstanding, and then they reveal their _true _colours, and you find out that they're really not very nice _at all._"

"I'm sure that's not so." said Alice as she got down from the table and went over to one of the bureaux. "May _I_ try and choose one?"

"Yes, yes of course," he replied stepping back from the furniture in a welcoming gesture. "Not that you'll have much luck with this unsightly lot."

Alice sifted through the compartments, taking great care with each piece of cloth; unfolding and refolding them slowly, as if they were priceless. Amongst the fast collection of fabrics there were beautiful cold emerald silks, deep purple velvets and lace as dainty as dandelion seed parasols. Alice was crouched on her knees surrounded by neat piles of previously viewed fabrics, that seemed to be forming a wall around her. The Hatter watched her face closely to see her reaction to each material. As he did this she became quite self-conscious and tried to keep her expression as sophisticatedly blank as possible. But he could tell her amazement through her eyes. Her bright and brilliant hazel nut brown eyes. He had always remembered her eyes as being blue until the first time she had returned to Underland. And so now he always associated hazel nuts with Alice's eyes; this became a slight problem whenever he saw someone eating hazel nuts, especially when they crunched them between their teeth, he felt a strange feeling of revulsion.

After long moments of silence, Alice gasped a low gasp.

"This one's gorgeous," she said, looking hopefully up at the Hatter. She hadn't noticed him take this one out in his search. It was a fine and fresh silk, of such a bright blue it almost seemed as translucent as a polished diamond. The slightest of movement would shift the light and shadow that shone on it, making its ivy shaped patterns move as if they were drifting across water.

"It is a rather nice fabric isn't it?" he said softly, regaining a new found affection for it. Alice passed it up to him as if it where an honour to be holding it, as she rose from her fabric fort.

The Hatter reached to a higher shelf and produced a summer night sky blue silk, that was so sleek it moved like liquid in his hands. His hand then glided smoothly towards conker brown chest of draws, from which he procured a large bundle of dark petticoat material.

"Alright," he exclaimed, as he proudly examined his and Alice's chosen fabrics. "I believe we are prepared to start."

The two of them moved as swiftly as the tide towards the sewing machine, where the Hatter set about cutting the material with a large pair, of rather dangerous looking scissors.

"Hatter?" Alice asked as she settled on a nearby packed surface. "Don't you need my measurements before starting?"

"Of course not," he said cheerily, no longer focusing on his work. "You're right here."

"I suppose that-" She began, but then she noticed how unsafely close the scissor's blades were coming to his already bandaged fingers. "Hatter your -!"

The blades snapped over his left index finger, causing him to drop the material as he jumped back. His features twisted as he suppressed an "Ow!"

"Hatter are you alright?" she asked worriedly as she rushed forward.

"I'm fine." he said hoarsely as he reached into his pocket and brought out a long roll of bandage. Before he could proceed to wrap the wound up as he usually did, Alice lightly drew his hand towards her. Her cold fingertips felt soothing on his warm wound.

"It's bleeding an awful lot," she said with concerned expression. "Do you think I should get Chess?"

"He's not getting his slobbery tongue anywhere near my fingers." he said sternly, but he did not retract his hand from hers.

"But you're really hurt." Alice protested.

"I'm not, my hands just like to make a drama of these things." he reassured her, gently removing his hand from hers and messily bandaging it. The Hatter quickly resumed cutting the fabric, taking a little more care this time with the scissors (only a little). Alice wondered how the Hatter's fingers had survived that long if that was the only treatment they received.

After a while Alice could see the dress starting to take shape. The Hatter was amazingly fast at his craft. As he folded the fabric to the right shape and pattern, without having to rethink the folds. Alice thought what amateurs the dressmakers of London would seem when put up against the Hatter. He made it look astonishingly easy, but Alice could tell that this had only come from years of tireless practise, and many painful hand injuries.

The Hatter then asked her to pick out some ribbons and buttons from the mess of accessories on the opposite table. She was totally overwhelmed by the sheer extensiveness of the mass of ribbons, buttons, laces, threads, broaches and beads all piled up in a heap. Alice was sure there was a more organised way of storing them, but there was nothing she could do about it at that moment. So she decided to only excavate the first few layers.

After a long time of rooting and untangling Alice decided on some thin ebony ribbons and small silver buttons, about the size of a five pence piece for her dress. A choice that the Hatter applauded.

"What made you take so long to choose additionals Alice?" asked the Hatter as he began to sew the buttons down the back of the dress. "I know that time can tease you sometimes."

"I was spoilt for choice." She replied brightly as she weaved a ribbon round her fingers. "And I'm not very used to choosing my own clothes. My mother and sister would never let me come into town to decide on my wardrobe; because my choices where _unsuitable for a lady such as myself, _apparently." she said in a slightly bitter tone.

The Hatter took a moment to wonder why in the world Alice would want to return, to the people who had deprived her so. And then he remembered.

"How did you answer them?" he asked quickly but cautiously

"Answer what?"

"The questions you had to answer." he explained, ceasing his work. "The ones you left Underland to answer."

Alice was quite taken aback. She stared back at him unsure of what to say. How would the Hatter react if she told him that she had gone back, only to say no to a marriage proposal, and go off on a fanciful and unsuccessful voyage halfway around the world? Alice decided to give the simplest answer possible.

"I answered with a, No." she said steadily, as if she was still working it out in her head.

"Just a No?" mimicking her pace.

"More or less."

"How did they react?" he asked, as if he thought that he really aught not be asking.

"Well, they weren't pleased if that's what you mean." Alice replied, unsure where the conversation was going.

There was an uneasy silence. The Hatter had another question. It seemed to fill him up until he had to restrain it from bursting out of his mouth. He was sure he could hold on to it. The sane him could hold on to anything. But then again, when the madness took him he could barely keep his hold on reality; let alone sweet nothings with ideas above their station, and all thought-consuming questions. So he thought it best to take advantage of his fair-weather rationality, and ask it now; before he let it slip in another less appropriate situation. He set aside his work and turned to face Alice completely with a purposeful expression. And thus, placed Alice squarely on the spot.

"Alice," he said with his voice retaining its usual unsteadiness, as if it were teetering on the edge of something. He knew it was _the line._ "Why did you return to Underland?" she stared back at him through a tense silence.

"I don't know." she lied trying not to make contact with his eyes; because she knew she'd melt, and tell him everything if she did. Alice knew the exact reason why she had come back. She was almost certain it was the whole reason. But she couldn't tell him now.

"So it was an accident?" he truly hated to make her feel unconfortable, but he needed an answer. "Just another slip through a looking glass or down a rabbit hole?" He could feel his intended expression crubbling away to reveale the dissapointement he felt at that moment. Hadn't she wanted to come back?

"No I…" Alice began. Why was he asking her to do this now? It wasn't the time, she was almost certain of it. "Hatter, do we have to do this now?"

And then, something knocked on the front door. A knock Alice thought was her saviour from awkward questions. The sound tore the atmosphere between them to shreds. The Hatter kept his saddened expression as the two of them crossed the room and opened the door.

Before them in the door way was a cheerful looking McTwisp. The white rabbit wore the pages robes of the White Queen's court. He smiled up at the two of them and prodced a scroll from a small pouch around his waist.

"Good day Alice, Tarrant." he nodded to the both of them as he said their names. "Our fair and gracious White Queen has invited you to an evening party in the forest clearing of Witzend: Tonight, at seven thirty two" the Hatter took the invertainton from the rabbit's tiny paws and examined it. The McTwisp continued: "They'll be live music, scrumptious food, a dance floor and a great atmosphere I'm sure. All to celerbrate Alice's return of course."

"How lovely," said the Hatter in a particularly disinterested tone as he went to pass the invitation to Alice, but she didn't take it. She stood very still as she felt the colour draining from her face. The White Rabbit hadn't noticed and had bounded off into the dense woods, with his strawberry red eyes sparkling as he said to himself: "It is nice not to be late for a change."

The Hatter closed the door and turned to Alice who faced him with an expression of pure terror. He slowly placed his hadnd on her shoulders and looked straight ito her eyes.

"Alice, what's wrong?" he asked tentatively.

Alice felt as if her insides had frozen. Her dream - her nightmare - was coming true. They would go to the party, she and the Hatter would dance, he'd kiss her, she'd die and the stars would fall from the sky. She'd die. She'd die tonight without telling him how she felt. The thought seemed to burn inside her stomach and melt everything inside of her; including her heart. But she couldn't tell him now, could she?

"I… We can't go tonight." Alice had to steady her voice from shaking, but it proved difficult; like trying to balance something on a very thin edge. "Please…" she looked up at him with pleading eyes, hoping that he would understand.

"Because of your dream?" he asked in a low voice, as if telling a secret. Alice nodded in response to his question.

"Well that's alright." he said brightly. "It's only an invitation. It's not compulsory, obligatory or even mandatory. We can refuse or decline. Every which way, we can stay here."

Feeling reassured, Alice allowed herself to smile as a small laugh crept out of her mouth. Seeing, that for once, he had managed to make it better, the Hatter decided to cease asking his questions. He didn't need to ask them now; the two of them where happy and his questions would just spoil it.

But he had asked them now, and Alice wanted to answer them. She felt compelled to, as the reluctance seemed to melt away from her. What exactly had she been waiting for? A chorus of angels or the clouds to open on her say so? She didn't know what, but she definitely wasn't going to wait for the stars to fall from the sky. Alice took a deep breath, hoping that it would bump up her courage.

"Hatter, in answer to your question I…" the hesitation seemed to mentally pull her back into the shadows and cover her mouth; stopping her words coming out.

"Alice, you don't have to-"

"Yes I do." she said softly as she threw all fear and doubt off of her, and out of her mind. "I came back to see you. And only you." Alice tried not to grin like an idiot at the expression on the Hatter's face, but she couldn't help it. He swayed slightly back and forth as he beamed back at her, lost for words. The Hatter allowed his hands to slide slowly down from her shoulders, to then hold hers.

"Hatter I think I…" After Alice said what she had to say, she knew that there'd be no going back. Hesitation tried to smother her again, but beat it back. She told herself that she didn't want to go back from here. "I think I love you."

The words felt heavy as they fell from her mouth and hit the floor. Their echo reverberated through the room and filled it with something sweet, that was something much more than nothing.

"You think?" asked the Hatter, his tone a far cry from serious. "Aren't you certain?"

"I'm almost certain." replied Alice, surprised by his reaction. "How can anyone be certain of these things?"

"I am." he replied, playfully mimicking a stern tone. "Certain that is; about most things. It really is no good to be almost certain."

"Well, certainty aside, do you love me?" asked Alice, realising that he was only teasing her.

"I do." he seemed to glow as he said it. The happiness seemed to radiate from him.

"Are you certain of that?" she grinned back.

"I am." he raised his hand to her face and lay it flat on her cheek, she still felt cold from when the outside air had caressed her face. "For once, and only this once are you the right size." he said tenderly.

"The right size for what exactly?" she asked mirroring his worm expression.

The Hatter leaned in closely to her until she could feel his breath on her lips, before whispering more gently than any other whisper before it. "_Kisses_."

And then, the two of them ignored the nagging voice of hesitation, and kissed.

**A/N Oh the fluff! Since I know from experience that it is bad for you in large quantities, I shall dumb it down in the next chapter (the story was going that way anyway…) I may be mistaken but I think this is the longest chapter I have ever written. Would you prefer it (if ever my chapters go over three thousand words again) if I split them into shorter chapters? **

**Reviews make me very, very happy, as I have said before. So please review for heavens' sake! But bad reviews make me write poetry (quite good poetry in fact ^_^) but I'd rather not read bad reviews. Who needs them really :p … **

**Oh, and there really is ****nothing ****between the ragged cat and Chess. He was just teasing her ^_~ **

**xxx**


	9. A Good and Proper Letter Structure

Chapter 9

_A Good and Proper Letter Structure _

Mirana watched the party layout assemble on the lush grass of the Witzend park. She pondered whether Tarrant would notice the subtleties within the letter. She hoped he wouldn't. And hoped against hope that he would find a way around them and the obstacles they enforsed. If he didn't realise it than Cheshire would; he was very astute with subtleties. But she doubted he would understand why, none of them would. And she wasn't able to tell them. The leash of the crown was tied tightly around her neck, and it was ready to tug and choke her the moment she stepped out of line. But Tarrant wouldn't realise the subtleties. He didn't have to. Him and Alice would happily come to the party that night, and no brute force would be needed.

The white and dull golden tiles were being laid on the ground to make up the dance floor; as immaculately dressed musicians tuned their redwood string instruments, on the already arranged stage. The buffet and ice sculptures were ready and waiting under the light of the paper lanterns in the trees. A temperate breeze blew over the vacated dance floor and wove its way through the mild cloud of conversation that hung above the party arrangers' heads. Everything was prepared. Everything was perfect, as it had been foretold, and how it shouldn't be. Mirana never thought she'd ever have to do anything like this for the sake of the crown. But she could not discourage the will of the Oraculum. And so, if someone suggested a party in Witzend park to celebrate the return of Alice, then she couldn't disagree. And if the Oraculum said that Alice was to be there, then she would have to use the full power of the crown to get her there. But also, if the Oraculum did not specify how many of the White Queen's guards were present; then she could fill the surrounding forest to the brim with guards, on the look out for her murderess older sister. Mirana would help and hinder the Oraculum's wishes in an attempt to balance the scales of fate, and prey for them to show her mercy. The Oraculum had rewritten its self once throughout history. Once and only once. But of course the monarch of the time could not tell of or document the change. So no one ever knew what had influenced the hands of fate and destiny to loosen their grasp, and rework the Oraculum. Mirana could only wish that they would pay her the same kindness. She gazed up at the stars that dotted the emerald sky, and noticed that they were glowing more brightly than she had ever seen them before. A good omen perhaps?

x§x¨x©xªxXxªx©x¨x§x

Breathless giggling emitted from the Hatter's workshop, as he rather overenthusiastically kissed Alice's neck. Alice didn't know how long they had been there. A few hours maybe. The last few amber rays of sun had been sucked in by the horizon, about twenty minutes previous. Leaving only the dull yellow lamps to illuminate the pair and their playful courtship. Unbeknown to them, two invisible cats had been in the room listening in the whole time. They hovered transparent over the couple's heads, with their paws over their mouths as they struggled to contain their mirth. These humans were so idiotically oblivious to them.

Alice's dress had long since been finished, but not tried on. It lay spread out on the worktop at the far side of the room. (Alice was a little reluctant to change out of the Hatter's clothes, however nice the dress was.)The Hatter and Alice had unanimously decided not to go to the party that night. Even though it was in her honour. They had decided that the other party goers could have their fun for them. Instead they would spend the evening alone together, as lovers were supposed to do. But Alice had since concluded that she wasn't used to so much continues affection, all in one go.

"Hatter," Alice tried desperately through her laughing fit to sound serious. "Hatter, stop it! It tickles!"

He didn't listen to her, and she didn't pull away. His lavender lips passed swiftly up and down her neck. Her arms linked above his shoulders and his around her waist. Alice looked over his shoulder and through his wild orange hair. She froze. A pair of disembodied deep green eyes and a wide pointed grin hovered in the air, staring right at them. Her face flushed.

"Cheshire!" exclaimed Alice. She couldn't believe he had **just sat there **and watched them! How long had he been there?

On Alice's yell, the Hatter released her from his embrace, as if she had given him an electric shock. He whirled round just in time to see the green feline eyes glisten and disappear irksomely.

"Cheshire you…! you…!" The Hatter seemed unable to find words to describe Chess' shameful and prying behaviour. Which didn't really matter since he was shouting at an empty room. When he and Alice became aware of this they shared an awkward glance, and rushed up the stairs. In the living room they found a pair of very innocent looking cats, sat in front of the fire as if they had been there all along.

"Cheshire you heinous, eavesdropping, tea hogging excuse for a cat!" the Hatter ranted, his voice getting louder and louder as his eyelids got blacker. Alice held on tightly to his arm in a hopeless bid to restrain him as he lunged forward (oblivious to the sofa that separated him and Chess). "Relieve my house of your imposing company! Get out!"

"Hatter!" Alice shouted as she heard the Hatter's Scottish accent coming through. On the sound of her voice, his anger extinguished as quickly as a fire being hit by icy water.

"Thank you…" he said quietly, as if his voice was whispering from the bottom of his lungs.

"Now Tarrant," began Cheshire pleadingly, but the superiority in his voice was unmistakeable. "Don't you think you're being a bit brash?"

"Not at all." replied Alice and the Hatter in unison. Alice was still quite annoyed at him for looking in on them. She certainly hadn't wanted spectators for her first kiss, especially not an unseen evaporating cat. Something she would never have had to fret about in Overland.

The Hatter gave her a glance of thanks for being on his side, before turning back to Cheshire. "Your welcome left long before you did. Now please kindly follow it."

"But you've given me no alternative place to be." replied Cheshire lazily, as he made himself comfortable in the carpet. He had no intention of leaving the two lovers in private. The happenings of that last day had been too interesting to just leave and let them take there course. "What did McTwisp have for you?"

"Nothing to concern your snooping ears with." snapped the Hatter. He placed his hand over the pocked that contained the invitation and narrowed his eyes at Cheshire. "You and your body snatching lady friend will just have to find somewhere else to moult - And why is it my fire place full of cat hair?" he added in an irritated but curious tone.

"I am not his _lady friend_,stupid mad man." grumbled the ragged cat. Both felines ignored his question

"Surely you must have somewhere else to be." Alice addressed Cheshire, as she sat down on the sofa. She wouldn't accept that he didn't have anyone else to nose in on.

"Of course I do, but you and Tarrant are ever so entertaining." he purred teasingly.

"Entertaining?" exclaimed the Hatter insulted; rising to Cheshire's bait. "Is that all your _slurvish, _gluttonous eyes see us as? Cheap entertainment?"

Cheshire grinned a grin up at him that seemed to say: "Yes. What else would I see you foolish humans as?"

Before The Hatter could respond, Alice turned her head up to look at him from the sofa and asked amiably: "Hatter, may I see the invitation?"

He dutifully passed it to her without a word; his eyes still glaring at Cheshire.

Alice unrolled and read over the invite. She got a sinking feeling in her stomach even looking at it. There was something foreboding about it somehow. It was set out like an official document; not unlike the ones she'd had to deal with at her father's company. It made her feel very small and insignificant. Even the type of the lettering seemed to press out of the page and threaten her. How could a party invitation be so ominous?

The Hatter sat down beside her. "You're not reconsidering going are you?" he asked, his eyes full with worry; as he remembered how he had vowed to protect her, that night on the balcony.

"No, I…" Alice didn't know what it was about the invitation, but there was something unsettling about it. "Cheshire, could you have a look at this?" she asked as she passed it down to him. He took it in his furry little paws and scrutinised the parchment. All eyes in the room were fixed on him, as they watched his slitted pupils glide over the paper. After a moment he looked up with a grave expression.

"This is no invitation." he said solemnly "It's a summons."

"Don't be ridiculous." said the Hatter irritably. "The White Queen sent it herself."

"It's a summons." he said forcefully "There have been subtle attempts to obscure it, but this is definitely a summons."

"But why would she do that?" asked Alice with a vexed expression. Both her and the Hatter looked back at Cheshire, anxiously awaiting a solution. But he gave them one.

"I don't know." replied Chess as he looked over the invitation again. "But it must be fatally important to the Queen that you be there, for her to use the full authority of the crown."

"How can you be certain it's a summons?" asked the Hatter. He was less than eager to take Alice somewhere she was afraid to go; but he was also unhappy about defying the Queen that he had fought so tirelessly to get into power.

"There's no doubt in my mind; it's arranged precisely like a court summons." he passed the paper back to the Hatter "I would have thought you'd recognise the layout."

"I don't think any of us need to remember that incident." said the Hatter, giving Cheshire a reprimanding stare for digging up the old and almost forgotten subject.

"Why? What happened?" asked the ragged cat, her eyes greedy for embarrassing stories about the Hatter. But Cheshire only gave her an enigmatic look. "Ple-ase tell me what the mad man did." she said in an uncharacteristically sweet voice. She was almost begging as she stretched herself closer to him; as cats do when they're requesting food.

"He got himself in a bit of a tizzy in the court room-" began Chess.

"It really is quite a dreary story-" interrupted the Hatter, his cheeks reddening slightly. But Cheshire ignored him.

"And so he danced about on one leg, lost his shoe and took a bite out of a tea cup. All in front of the Red Queen and King and entire jury. It's nearly ancient history now. _Nearly_."

The two cats sniggered at the Hatter's previous uncomfortable episodes.

"I do wish you'd take my situation a little more seriously." interrupted Alice sternly "What happens if I refuse the summons?"

"Do you remember seeing the Hatter in the court room when you were younger Alice?" asked Cheshire

"Yes, but-"

"In what manner did he arrive?" asked Cheshire. His tone was that of a tutor educating a student.

"He was dragged in by the Red Queen's guards." Alice could hear the pieces clicking together in her mind, but she didn't want to look at them. The bigger picture was most unappealing.

"Because he refused the summons." finished Cheshire.

"Why?" asked the ragged cat.

"Because he's an arrogant fool, who thinks he can evade the crown." said Cheshire as if it were a common known fact.

"I am not!" exclaimed the Hatter; he was getting sick of the felines condescending attitude towards him.

"We're straying from the point." said Alice reprimanded the two cats. She gave the Hatter a look that showed that she in no way agreed with Cheshire, to which he replied with a loving smile. "If we don't turn up to the party, will the White Queen…?" Alice didn't want to finish. The words would sound obscene coming out of her mouth.

The ragged cat opened her mouth, but Cheshire calmly gestured to the ragged cat to be quiet and ask no more questions. He then turned to the two humans on the sofa: "If you don't attend the party willingly, then you will be brought there by force, in the armoured arms of the Queen's guards."

"Our Queen Mirana wouldn't allow it." said the Hatter firmly.

"Looks like she's the one making it happen." muttered the ragged cat as she set about licking her paws clean.

"What I don't understand is _why _she's doing this." said Alice with a tense expression. "What could be that important?"

"And if it was this important, then why didn't she simply tell you?" Cheshire's face was deep in contemplation. "This sly secrecy doesn't bode well. It's very unlike Mirana."

There was a long and dragging moment of thought, in which Alice and the Hatter's thoughts kept exasperatingly reverting to her dream.


	10. Of Muchness and Mayflies

Chapter 10

_Of Muchness and Mayflies _

Alice stood alone in the Hatter's bedroom (which was more like a cramped junk room than a bedroom), struggling to fix the buttons on the back of her dress. No matter which way she turned or squirmed she just couldn't grasp the little silver nubs. In her frustration Alice moaned a sharp and anguish filled grunt, as she threw herself heavily onto the bed. The stress of the pending evening seemed to tighten every muscle in her body, and constrict all rational and pleasant thoughts in her mind. She hadn't felt this miserable for a long time. They had to go, and she couldn't fight it. The Hatter had tried his best to find a loophole within the summons, but Cheshire had managed to apologetically counter each of his attempts. There was simply no way out of it. Every time one of the Hatter's possible solutions faltered, the hopelessness of the situation was rammed deeper into his and Alice's heart. Alice could tell he felt it too. Every time Cheshire retorted, the Hatter would squeeze Alice's hand, and his brilliant green eyes would flash her a sincerely contrite glance. Brief as these glances were, they seemed to bore into her; which only made her feel worse.

Alice sat on the edge of the bed with her new dress hanging limp from her frame. She knew the dress was too pretty for her. The silks were too fine, and the cut of the dress was too tight and dainty for her body. Her body that reminded her more of a boy's than an elegant lady's. She knew that when the Hatter saw her in it, he would be disappointed that he had wasted his best fabrics on her. Although Alice was certain of this, it wasn't true. But that's how dread-filled thoughts work: They manifest inside the mind and fill it up, as smoothly and quickly as black ash clouds billow outwards and enlarge. They wait patiently and gnaw at the roots of any happy thoughts, killing them before they have a chance to blossom.

A soft knock sounded from the other side of the door. Alice quickly held the dress to her body.

"Come in." she said timidly.

The Hatter slowly entered the room, closing the door with a quiet click. His pupils shrunk slightly when he noticed that she was not properly dressed. But she had beckoned him in, so it may not bother her, and shouldn't bother him.

"Are you having trouble with the dress?" he asked, his voice nearly empty of emotion. Alice could tell it took him a enormous effort to keep his voice so suppressed.

"I…" She stared back at him blankly, as the brakes on her train of thought came to a dawdling stop. "I'm having a bit of trouble with the buttons. Could you…?"

Alice stood up in front of a dull full length mirror in the corner of the room. She lifted her hair out of the way so that the Hatter could get a clear view of the buttons that ran down the back of the dress.

"Yes of course." he said in a slightly more cheerful tone. "I should have known you wouldn't be able to fix them yourself, they're so small." he wittered more to himself than to Alice.

As he set about buttoning the dress Alice gazed into the mirror. The dress was truly wonderful. The skirt was made up of thick contrasting dark and light blue panels of material; that widened towards the bottom, like the simple patterns on parasols at the sea side. Spiralling up the skirt in a crossed lace fashion were the ebony ribbons she had chosen. They were threaded tightly in some places and slack in others, allowing the ink-blue petticoat underneath to bulge out in different parts. The waist was close-fitting in the most flattering way to Alice's figure up until the bust, where the material became comfortably loose. One strip of material made up the sleeves that ran in line with her firm collar bones. The fabric became wider on one side, to cover up the scratched scars on her arm. Over the wider part of the sleeve, the Hatter hade folded some crystal blue material into the shape of three butterflies, and embroidered their bodies with dark threads.

Alice wondered why the Hatter had covered up her scars. Did he think them ugly? Alice had never really paid them much attention until now. She had never cared about her appearance much until now either. But why would he make the effort to cover them?

Alice closed her eyes and lent back onto the Hatter's torso. She didn't want to think about her looks. All she wanted to think about was the Hatter; whom she was lucky to have this time with. As she lent against his warm body Alice thought to herself, how unnecessary and melodramatic the rest of the world was. Always panicking and blinding itself with its own self importance. Like a needy child, the rest of the world would grasp her hand an drag her away to somewhere she didn't want to go; and away from this perfect scenario. The flawless scenario with nothing else to bother the two of them. No wars, no dreams, no Jabberwockies and no different worlds.

In the reflection, over her shoulder the Hatter wore an expression of pride. From behind her he wrapped his arms around her torso and placed his hands over her abdomen. Her reflection portrayed her serene expression, as her pale complexion shone out against the darkness of the room. With her eyes as peacefully closed as they were, she almost looked as if she were asleep. The shadows cast over her face by her eyelashes and full lips looked so immaculate in the dim light, nearly as if a skilled artist had painted them there. To the Hatter her brightness was almost unearthly. Tender words filled his mouth and pressed against his closed teeth with a longing for release. He saw no point in withholding them.

"You look beautiful." he said nearly melodious tone, as smile eased its way on to his face.

Alice's eyes snapped open; And for a split second the Hatter was sure he saw a flash of disbelief in them. Even though she had snatched it back as quickly as it had come, and concealed it with a smile, he had still glimpsed it. His face fell into a perplexed expression.

"I'm not lying. Do you think I'm lying?" he craned his neck to look round her shoulders and into her face. "I'd never lie to you." he said looking slightly hurt.

Alice turned to face him. She had never heard someone call her beautiful, and think them sincere. Plenty of people had called her beautiful at her's and Hamish's engagement party - but they hadn't meant the same thing as the Hatter. The Overlanders had been evaluating her body for breeding purposes, like a cow at a livestock auction; with the highest bidder being the Ascots. But this was very different. When Alice looked up at him, she felt warm jumbled words swimming about in her lungs. They were making no attempt to present themselves as a sentence; they just mingled with one another in the shadow of her heart. Alice was beginning to lose patience with them.

"Why did you cover up my Bandersnatch scars?" she asked with the tact of a child.

"Well I…" the Hatter was a little taken aback. He stepped back as if recovering from a sneeze and tried his best to formulate his words in an intelligible fashion. "I assumed, since you are a girl, that you'd want it covered - Not that you should want it covered, it's a lovely scar. But most women cover their faces and blemishes and every crevasse in so much make up, you'd think that they were trying to redraw their face. Not that they'd need to and you certainly don't need to. And you wouldn't - I couldn't picture you like the others, covering yourself so extensively-"

"Hatter, what are you trying to say?" interrupted Alice courteously.

"You're not like the others at all." he continued as if she hadn't said anything."The others are so _flimsy. _They look as if they'd shatter into one-million-two-hundred and-thirty-one tiny peaces, if you simply flicked them on the nose-"

"What does this have to do with my scar?" asked Alice, her voice shaking slightly with surprised laughter.

"Your scar, shows that you're dissimilar to them." the Hatter's voice was dithering and wavering, as if he were embarrassed about his affection for her scars. He rolled up her sleeve to show the three bright red healed scratches. "They display your muchness: that you can stare the _frumious _Bandersnatch in its one eye. None of the other brittle, make up covered women have that." he traced the lines of the scratches with the tips of his fingers, causing Alice to blush as he cooed: "They're so _swift _and _red_."

Alice could feel his breath on her bare shoulder as he stroked his fingers up and down the scratch marks. When the Hatter saw the radiant cherry blossom pink her cheeks had become, and awkwardly withdrew to a less intimate distance.

"I could alter the dress, if you like." he said uncomfortably, as if the voice of decorum had just whispered scolding words in his ear.

"No, it's fine." replied Alice brightly, feeling satisfied . "We don't have the time anyway. Considering…"

The sense of dread settled back into her stomach, after the Hatter had come so close to fighting it off for good.

"Time never seems to favour us; it really does him no good to be this bitter." the Hatter remarked with an undertone of defeat in his voice. Alice racked her brains for an explanation for times stinginess

"I don't think time appreciates being squandered, so he doesn't give us enough to waist, just enough to savour." posed Alice after a moment, feeling a little wise.

The Hatter pondered her theory for a moment with a look of admiration. "I believe you may be right about time, but it would do him no harm to be a little more generous."

"Do you have the time?" asked Alice, knowing that they would have to set off soon.

"No, that thieving cat stole it." replied the Hatter, referring to his pocket watch.

Alice went to leave the room and ask for the time, but the Hatter held her wrist and drew her back.

"We don't have to go. We could run, we could hide. We could escape to the mushroom fields, and have our own secret tea party in the shadow of Absolem's mushroom - I am rather fond of that idea."

"That's quite unlike you."

"What is?"

"Running away and hiding. You were the first to offer to slay the Jabberwocky." replied Alice, trying her best conceal her liking of his idea.

"Yes, well, the circumstances were quite atypical then."

Alice wasn't sure what he meant by this. Did he mean that he didn't think that she'd die on the Frabjous day, or that he didn't love her on the Frabjous day? The question must have shown on her face; because behind the Hatter's eyes his mind reeled at speed as he searched it for the answer. An answer did not make itself apparent.

"Would you really run away from a court order?" asked Alice with a sweet eagerness. She didn't want the conversation to come to such an sudden halt "On the strength of a dream?"

"No, not any other run-of-the-mill dream." the Hatter replied. He may be mad, but he wasn't that foolishly reckless. "It's rather strange; you being visited by a dream about a tragic party, the night before receiving a party invitation." he posed pensively.

"I'm not scared." Alice blurted out, as if the words had been waiting for her attention to be diverted before escaping.

"I never uttered a word that you were."

"Are you?"

"What?"

"Scared?"

"Yes." he replied honestly, venting his fear through an unsure laugh.

At that moment Alice felt like doing something impulsive. Her mother had always discouraged impulsiveness. But then again, her mother had encouraged unpleasant and laughable things. Such as wearing a corset, putting only one sugar in one's tea, and marrying a lord with teeth resembling piano keys made by a blind man. Therefore her mother's advice was hereby declared unsound. But before she could act on impulse, the ragged cat's voice came from behind the door, followed by Cheshire's softer voice:

"Come on you two!"

"You're not mayflies; there'll be plenty of time later."

"Time for what exactly?" whispered the ragged cat to Cheshire pertly.

"Shush." he replied sharply.

"We should leave; be _there_ before the _guards_ get here." muttered the Hatter under his breath. He reached for his blue jacket, that Alice had been wearing only a few minutes previous. But as he leaned forward to get it Alice obstructed him with an abrupt kiss. She clutched his tie and closed her eyes, hoping that he wouldn't pull away. The Hatter felt his heart stop and it's outer layer melt away, before he unwillingly pulled himself from her. Alice let a giggle flee her mouth as they shared a adoring yet sheepish look; their bodies keeping very still.

"I hear laughing; we must intervene." said the ragged cat from behind the door, as if she were carrying out a military mission. Cheshire ignored her, but he was all too aware that they had to move quickly.

"The guards will be here soon." prompted Chess "And in the arms of the law, is never the best way to arrive at a party Tarrant."

After snatching up his jacket, The Hatter took Alice's hand in his and placed his other on the doorknob, but didn't turn it. Just stared at it with intentful unblinking eyes, as his mind spun like an intoxicated carousel. Moving backwards slowly, recalling events that had happened; only to speed up and move forward even faster than before, thinking of all the dreadful possibilities, of events to come. If he escorted Alice to the party tonight, and something happened to her, then he would be breaking his promise. Promises were his second least favourite broken thing.

Alice squeezed the Hatter's hand comfortingly, as she whispered quietly, as if she were the only one intended to hear it: "I lied." without needing to add: I'm scared too.

They both felt their fondness of the Hatter's previous "secret tea party idea" inflate tenfold. But they knew that the guards would come to find them. And besides, the Hatter knew that Alice's muchness would be wasted in hiding. She had a bright and brave soul, that would only be swallowed and dimmed by the shadows of exile. He pressed her hand tightly in his before opening the door. There was no going back now. They were walking into Alice dream.

**A/N Kissing the Hatter out of the blue = good**

** Bitter tea = bad **

**There really was little point to that chapter wasn't there? Oh well, the next chapter is the evening party. Do forgive me if it takes me a while, it's only because I want to get it right (and I have a tonne on English coursework to redraft :p) **

**Reviews are greatly appreciated. I'm stunned by how many I've received so far (36 is a lot to me, it's almost dizzying) ^-^ xxxx **


	11. There Are Borders, Gaps, Breaking Locks

Chapter 11

_There are Borders, gaps and breaking locks._

**A/N !IMPORTANT! After the 3****rd**** divider time goes backward a few minuets to show things from Iracebeth's point of view. Thank you so so much for you patience and reading this far. :)****x **

The walk to Witzend had taken longer than anticipated. A weaving network of woodland paths made up their route; where the shadows between the trees were so deep and encompassing, they could have been hiding anything. To solve this, the two felines (who had no fear of mysterious nocturnal creatures) drifted invisibly through the trees, patrolling the forest edge, ready to alert the humans if anything looked a miss. Within the trees and out of the human's ear shot, the ragged cat stubbornly insisted that she would not enter the party, for fear that she might catch something unpleasant off of the snobs from the Queen's court. Before she could start to complain more about the selfishness of the higher classes, Cheshire interrupted her:

"Neither you nor I have an invitation anyway; so there is no purpose to your bitter rant, _Gael_."

The ragged cat spun round to face Cheshire; her name was very precious to her. The ties it held to her past were paramount to her. Therefore very few people knew it.

"I told you that in confidence you-" she growled a low growl, afraid that the humans would hear them.

"Don't call me names, just because I know _yours_." Cheshire interrupted again before she could finish her insult. He shot the ragged cat a smug expression before evaporating deeper into the trees; earning him a venomous syrup-eyed glare.

The paths were narrow and uneven, like the way to a child's hideaway. The spindled branches overhead stretched and reached for each other, with a longing for togetherness. Underneath them the Hatter stuck close to Alice with a protective arm around her shoulders. His eyes flickered from the sky, to the trees, to the shadows, to the path, as if they felt restless inside his head. Alice was sure that there was a better, safer and brighter route to he party, but the Hatter professed he knew of no other way. It occurred to her, that maybe he knew of this route as a result of taking it as a child. He may have ran down there with playmates, or come down there to hide. Alice felt a sad certainty that he had come down there to take refuge from the world, rather than beckon it down there to spend time with him. She knew a close relation to nothing about the Hatter's life, or how his mad characteristics and habits had developed. Alice wished she could have been there, instead of the people who had blatantly damaged him and driven him into insanity. She would have helped him, and kept him happy. She was certain of it. Curses sprouted up in her mind, for the unjust twist of fate that had destined her to be born later in Overland, rather than earlier in Underland.

Brambles spilled out onto the path from within the trees, catching on Alice's dress and ripping at the bare skin on her ankles and legs. The Hatter's eyes broke their hectic and repeating loop to study Alice's expression. Her features were shaped into a pensive expression as her eyes gazed off into the distance, glazed with sorrow. Despite how late they were, the Hatter stopped walking. When Alice went to face him, she withdrew her emotions and bury them down in the depths of herself again. An insincere calm expression masked her face as she came to a halt. This did not sit well with the Hatter - suppressing emotions was the most harmful thing one could do to ones self. The emotions turn nasty. They turn feral. They turn on you. The Hatter knew this better than most. He decided to give Alice some advice.

"Hatter?" at the sound of her voice the cats ceased moving through the trees and waited for them to start moving again. The Hatter's lily white face shone through the shadows with a knowing expression.

"You shouldn't treat your emotions so Alice." he said in a worryingly serious tone.

"What do you mean?" she asked, all of a sudden feeling uncertain of everything. The Hatter had a knack for this. With one comment, he could make her world and mind feel as though it were pivoting on the most unstable of foundations. All plans and ideas would have to be rethought, for he had seen a flaw in them. This of course, was not his intention; but that didn't stop the effect fledging within her.

"If you never let them surface, they'll suppose that you're trying to drown them. They don't appreciate it." he spoke in a low voice that seemed to target Alice's heart and coat it in acidic liquid, muting her voice. When she didn't respond the Hatter continued; his gaze holding her tightly. "They'll persist and persevere, until you _will _try with all you muchness to drown them. And they don't drown easily, not at all-"

"Hatter, why are you…?" Alice began, her words were faltering halfway up her throat. She could hear his Scottish accent coming through ever so slightly now.

"Because it hurts when you do what you're doing-"

"What is it I'm doing?" Alice interrupted in a loader and angrier tone than intended.

"I…" the Hatter felt severely scolded "I shouldn't have… I'm sorry." he grumbled remorsefully, realising that saying such things to her now would only aggravate the stress she already felt for the pending evening. His advisory emotional disciplinary methods could wait, perhaps forever. The Hatter didn't need long to conclude that telling Alice how best to deal with her emotions, was a line he should never cross. His gaze fell shamefully to the floor. Alice instantly regretted snapping at him, as her stomach sank the same way as his gaze.

She stepped closer to him took both of his hands in hers. His fingers felt unnaturally cold in hers as they squeezed gently back.

"I'm sorry. I'm stressed." she explained, catching his gaze with hers and lifting it from the ground. "It's just with everything that's happening…" Her words were amplified by the silence and stillness of the night, that seemed to be closing in on them the longer they stood still. The moon gleamed dim amongst the heavy light of the stars that hung low amongst the net of branches above their heads. If only time were considerate enough to stay still for moments like these.

"Are we moving any time soon?" Cheshire asked wearily from within the trees. He wasn't all too keen on doing favours for people; especially if it took a long time, and didn't get him into any parties.

"Yes." replied the Hatter, as if he had just snapped out of a trance. "We shouldn't be too many ticks away now."

And so they began to make their way again, walking at a faster pace, hand in hand, with a light but imposing awkwardness between them. The Hatter wished it would leave. These could be his last hours with Alice, and he didn't want to share them with anyone, especially an uninvited and most unwelcome awkwardness.

x§x¨x©xªxXxªx©x¨x§x

As Alice and the Hatter reached the glade where the party was being held; Cheers erupted from the assembled party goers, that seemed to have started the celebrations prior to Alice's and the Hatter's arrival. The joyous crowd was mainly made up of the White Queen's court and strangers from Witzend. Everyone there was draped in the brightest of white clothes, as they sipped sparkling and golden champagne. The only familiar faces Alice could find were that of McTwisp and Bayard, as the whole party ceased their drinking, chattering and dancing to greet Alice and the Hatter. Through her anxiety and stinging legs, Alice managed to smile and shake the hands of people unknown to her, as they bestowed empty congratulatory words upon her. But unconcerned with such formalities and pleasantries, the Hatter scanned the sea of faces for the White Queen. He flitted about the dance floor and the rim of the party, outlined by a string of paper lanterns in the trees. He peered into the darkness a few times, searching for the luminous white dress of the Queen, but he only found guards engaged in hushed conversation.

Optimistic music drifted from the tiny island of a stage, and right over the Hatter and Alice's heads. After sifting through the entire party three times, and asking after the White Queen with nearly every present guest; the Hatter stood still in the middle of the dance floor. He looked like an overworked scarecrow, as the worry weighed down heavily on his eyebrows. His brightly coloured clothes and hair set him apart from the rest of the company, who all seemed to meld into one force rather than individual people. Alice hastily severed herself from her polite conversation with one of the White Queen's maids, and rushed over to him.

"What's the matter?" asked Alice, with fear simmering in her stomach.

"The White Queen can't be seen or heard of here." he replied with a shaking voice.

"Has no one seen her?" enquired Alice, a slight desperation in her eyes. Why would the White Queen go to so much trouble to ensure Alice's arrival, and then fail to attend herself?

"McTwisp pronounces he saw her arrive, but not speak with anyone or leave - I'm not partial to this at all. "

"Nether am I." Alice looked frantically into the forest that framed the glade, searching for the guards that would stop them from leaving. "Do you think we could leave? How many guards are there in the forest?"

"Plenty." replied the Hatter, remembering how the white queens guards filled the forest like a river of milk. He then remembered what they whispered to one another, and his face instantly brightened "But a small group of them are considering abandoning their posts; seeing as there doesn't seem to be much to defend the party against. We could-"

"Sneak past them?-" Alice interrupted, a coy smile playing on her face.

"Indeed." The Hatter mirrored her expression, as he took her the hand and went to lead her toward the conspiring guards.

x§x¨x©xªxXxªx©x¨x§x

The small stage was quite overpopulated with musicians. There was no room for any of the to move their feet, as they stood tightly packed together like molluscs on seaside rocks. Trumpets poked over the heads of the musicians in front, whilst behind the violinists and cellist were having particular trouble manoeuvring their bows. This all made the music slightly disjointed, but far from tuneless. Behind them the White Queen stood with the emotion and poise of a Pre-Raphaelite painting. Her porcelain white skin blemished with meagre tears. She had heard the celebration as Alice and Tarrant arrived, but she couldn't move to greet them. The guilt and shame of what she was doing seemed to weigh down on her feet and hold them firmly in place. For the first time in her life, Mirana wished for someone to cut her head clean off of her shoulders. For then she could have no head, no crown to worry about, and no obligations. The weight of the world would just have to go somewhere else. This was a thought of lunacy. Her head was full of them. The most persuasive of which, was going against the intentions of the Oraculum.

"Utter lunacy. To surrender the crown over to Iracebeth for the sake of two people; no matter how dear they are to you." said her own voice sternly from within her head.

Mirana hated that voice; but it was right. She couldn't compromise the rest of Underland, for her selfish affection of two people. Her sister ruled with fear, terror and torture; and Mirana would do anything to spare her people that misery again. She had to look at the bigger picture, no matter how firmly her eyes where fixed to the smaller one. She very well may be fretting over nothing. Mirana couldn't devise a way that her sister could get past the guards. Unless of course, Iracebeth managed to find her way into an evaporating cat's body. Another thought of lunacy. The only body swapping equipment in Underland, was safely stored in the castle vaults.

Shunning her cowardice, Mirana went to come out from behind the stage, only to come face to face with the Hatter. His cheeks flushed as he respectfully backed away. The White Queen saw that he had been leading Alice round the back of the stage. Noticing that the two of them looked as if they'd been caught out; Mirana didn't enquire as to why they had been sneaking behind the stage.

"Alice?" asked the White Queen in an empty voice.

"We beg your pardon ma'am." said the Hatter with a nervous and low bow, before Alice could respond. As he bowed he did not relinquish Alice's hand, but held it to his stomach. This brought her down to a jerky bow. " T'was not our intention to disturb you."

"That's quite alright Tarrant." she replied with an over-elegant curtsey. "May I enquire, as to why Alice and you were late?"

"Well…-" began the Hatter, but in truth he wasn't sure how much information to disclose. Alice continued for him:

"I felt a little anxious about coming." she said hastily. That really was all Alice was willing to tell. Over the past few hours she had felt her trust in Mirana steadily decreasing and falling away, until only the core foundation remained.

"Why ever would that be?" she asked; apprehension spread through her body, as Mirana tried her best to deposit it anywhere but her face. What had Cheshire figured and told Alice?

"I was… just being silly." Alice was getting sick of being put on the spot. "It was only a dream."

"No dream is _only_ a dream." said Mirana, hearing the tone of her previous tutors in her own voice. "They can be the most powerful form of divination. Please, you must tell me what happened."

Alice stared back at the White Queen with defiant and untrusting eyes. The word "must" indicated an order; and Alice was not about to be ordered to do anything, by someone was not being straight with her.

"No," began Alice, as if she wasn't sure whether or not to continue. "What I must do, is ask you why you structured our invitation in the way you did.

Mirana shuddered, as if she had just felt an ominous pair of cold hands touch her without consent. Now she realised why Alice and Tarrant had been sneaking around. They'd been trying to escape. Sympathy swelled within her for the two of them, but he tried to force it down. For the sake of her crown, she asked her question again; softer this time: "Please, tell me what you dreamt. You have no notion of how important it is that-"

"Important enough to force us here-" Alice raised her voice as she interrupted the Queen.

"I had no choice-" the queen cut across in a hushed voice, and signalled that Alice should do the same.

"Choice between what?" interjected the Hatter, with the voice of a child being kept in the dark by its parents. His loyalties were once again divided between the White Queen and Alice. He wanted to tell the White Queen to be open with Alice and him. But he also thought, that he aught to tell Alice to trust the White Queen, for if they couldn't trust her to keep them safe - who could they trust?

"There is no choice to make." Replied Mirana solemnly "There is only the right and wrong thing to do."

"But you must make the choice to decide which is which?" the Hatter cut across again, knowing he was speaking out of turn.

"That decision was already predetermined for me." she began, her voice shaking slightly under the strain of her emotions. The Hatter went to say something else, but Mirana cut him short with stern authority: "-Please don't make this harder than it already is!"

"Please, your majesty, answer me this," said the Hatter respectfully, with pleading eyes. "Is Alice in any danger?"

Alice felt her heart swell almost to bursting point. Of course she knew that he had these concerns for her. He'd have to be extremely dense not to. But to hear him voice them so openly seemed to stir her affections for him. The Hatter had a knack for this too.

She held his hand tighter and tried not to divert his gaze from the White Queen, as they awaited her response.

At the sight of the flash of love in Alice eyes, Mirana questioned her so-called-predetermined decision. As the pair of them faced her. United, it seemed, against her. She indulged the thought of lunacy. If she wanted the hands of fate to work in her favour, then she would have to nudge them in the right direction; even if it meant losing her crown for a time. For the sake of Alice and Tarrant's love. She breathed deeply.

"Alice is in danger." replied Mirana steadily.

"Then how could you-?" began the Hatter, defensively pulling Alice closer to him and away from Mirana.

"I'll explain later, but you have to leave." She began to beckon them to a safe route away from the party and into the shadows, the glowing and buzzing party oblivious to their absence. Alice tried to catch the Hatter's eye, but her attempt failed. The trio moved close to the trees as a chain: With The White Queen in front leading the Hatter my the hand, and the Hatter doing the same for Alice. But Alice refused to be lead away, as a question pressed heavily on her mind.

"How did you know, there'd be danger?" She asked suspiciously, bringing the chain to a halt. Two pale faces turned round to face her. A silence hung between them, broken by the White Queens voice.

"Because the Oraculum had foretold it." Replied Mirana shortly, knowing that only with honesty could she rebuild their trust in her. She knew what would come of her words.

No sooner had she uttered them, her crown went flying from her head, as if a counter magnetic force had propelled it away from her and into the middle of the bright dance floor. All music, dance and chatter stopped abruptly. Every pair of eyes fell on the crown and slowly drifted to the shadows from where it had come. Mirana stood firm and proud, as she felt a certain empty satisfaction that she had told the truth, and made the right decision. Besides, she would have lost her crown as soon as Alice and Tarrant left the party unharmed. As the Queen went to step forward and out of the shadows, Alice gave a sharp gasp. Her whole body tensed. Her hands twitched suddenly to hold the Hatter's tightly. So tight it hurt. His eyes shot to hers, only to see that they were full to the brim with fear; as her pail complexion stood out brighter against the darkness of the night, than it had done before.

"Alice?" he asked, his voice little more than a whisper, as if the word did not wish to be said.

Alice's full lips parted slightly as she attempted to speak, but only small jittering noises came through, like a slow creaking door. Her body began to sway and the Hatter attempted to steady her, but his efforts were for nought. Alice buckled to her knees and into the light of the dance floor. The Hatter willingly fell with her, ignoring the rest of the party goers, he attempted to find the problem. Although, he already knew what he would find. As Alice's body completely gave way backwards her eyes shut tightly, as if trying to hold the pain back from everyone around her. The Hatter held her tense body in his arms and examined her. Dark blood gushed from her left side and over the clean dance floor. It soaked into her new dress of a few hours, and framed the deep wound from which Ilosovic Stayn's dagger stood upright. Her breathing was as fast as a small animal's as yet more blood pumped out of her wound. The Hatter could only gawp down at her, as his bandaged hands shook and his heart moaned and twisted with anguish inside his chest; as it refused to believe what was happening.

x§x¨x©xªxXxªx©x¨x§x

After scaling the hostile mountains that separated the Outlands from Witzend Iracebeth of Crims lent against the first visible tree of the forest. Her heart and temples pulsed and beat with her blood that had not been stirred in such a long time. Her time in the desolate Outlands had left her feeling dead and stagnant, but now the drive for revenge seemed to breathe new life into her. Brutally stirring her from reminiscent and venomous state; the need for revenge had forced a new lifeblood down her throat. Wheezing breathes came up from her lungs and out of her mouth. The breathing of an old woman. Iracebeth did not consider herself old. The cooling breeze eased past her small form, made greasy by the sweat underneath her torn gown. Her once immaculate hair had escaped it's once fixed style to leak down her overly large head, and move slightly with the wind.

Standing out against the night, the bright yellow lights of the party shone, setting it apart from the rest of the forest. As if it were trying its very best to alert Iracebeth of its existence. The ghost of a laugh drifted from her dry lips. It was as if Mirana wanted her sister to kill the champion. Almost as if she had planned it to happen, not Iracebeth. The trek across the mountains had not been easy, but she had managed it. She had managed to fend off the feral Jubjub birds and climb the harsh slate mountains - all in her magnificent heart three inch heels.

With triumph fizzing in her veins, Iracebeth scanned the woods from her high vantage point. The white knight's marble white armour was luminous in the shadows of the trees, making them obvious to anyone wishing to make their attack from above. Like most people, Mirana must have thought Iracebeth weak and stupid, otherwise she would never have made it this simple. Iracebeth did not feel weak. For the first time in months she felt powerful. She reached into her dress and withdrew Stayne's dagger. Its handle was twisted and the blade's unapologetically uneven edge glinted in the light of the unnaturally bright stars. By giving her his dagger, Stayne had promoted Iracebeth from pathetic wretch to death giver. She stretched her tiny arms out to their full capacity as she felt the strength and might of the dagger beat through her. As she did this a cheer erupted from the party. Um and the lunatic had arrived.

Iracebeth observed as the party guests greeted Alice, and how the mad man darted about the rim of the dance floor, like a fly trapped under a glass. She watched intently as he lingered in one specific spot for a moment. A smile etched its self onto her face. He was lingering at a point where the density of the guards where becoming thinner and thinner. Soon there would be no guards there at all. The mad man had just unwittingly shown Iracebeth the defence's weak point. Her hidden back door. Her way in.

She made her way stealthily closer to the lit glade. Her walk was the quietest of stumbles. Most of the remaining guards were talking amongst one another, others were staring at the sky or daydreaming. Some were complaining that the White Queen never held any parties for _them,_ and others had even started a poker game. But the most important thing was that a significant number of them had abandoned their posts, giving Iracebeth a clear walkway to her target. The remainder of the guards were dumbly oblivious to the murderous ex-monarch, who was almost skipping merely beside them.

She was but few meters away now. Watching the two people who had stolen her empire talk and conspire in worried voices, as if they knew what was coming, like pigs to the slaughter house. Iracebeth twitched. How she yearned to tear the two of them apart. She knew from what she had seen on the Oraculum (what seemed like years ago), that the two of them were now lovers. The thought sickened her, and made her feel as though her insides were covered in black syrup. How she yearned to rip the two of them to shreds, and coat her sister's hands with their blood. Iracebeth could see Mirana behind the stage, snivelling to herself. The silly little whinger never took action - especially it somehow inconvenienced or demoted her. She could be a willing would-be-martyr, but only when it suited her. Iracebeth couldn't remember the last time Mirana had helped someone else, without it being for her own gain. And she had the nerve to call Iracebeth selfish, on more than one occasion. Could martyrs be hypocrites? Maybe, but only in private.

Iracebeth's pupils stared set on Alice and the Hatter. She watched them move ever closer to where she stood. Closer and closer still until they stood with Mirana. When they began to speak in hushed voices, she began to panic. What if Mirana was telling them everything? What if her false conscience was winning out of her duties as the current Queen? But even if she was, there was no need to fret. Iracebeth's plan was solid. She had the upper hand, not them. She steadied her self and her breathing as she reached into her dress and procured a small vial. Iracebeth was not as weak and stupid as most people thought. As all people thought. She was so much cleverer. Oh, so much cleverer. She would not have a beast as powerful as the Jabberwocky under her control, for so many years, and not take a sample of it's fabled blood. Neon purple blood that had the power to transport a being from one world to the next. Iracebeth was not about to chance everything on one shot. What if her one blow didn't kill Alice? She would have wasted her one chance. She wanted rid of Alice - though death or otherwise.

Mirana, Alice and the Hatter began to move along the rim of the party and even closer to Iracebeth. She had to act quickly. After popping the stopper to the vial open, she poured its contents over the dagger, drenching it. Knowing that as soon as the Jabberwocky blood entered Alice's system the process would start, and Alice's body would be taken to Overland, dead or alive. Either way she would be trapped above, with no hope of return. No hope of coming back and wrecking things a second time.

The three of them stopped right in front of Iracebeth, like sitting ducks. But she did not expect them to say the things they said:

"How did you know, there'd be danger?" came the distrustful voice of Alice. Every fibre of Iracebeth's body seized up with hatred for the tangled haired child. Mirana had told them the truth, to a certain extent at least. Iracebeth held the dagger back and began to fix her aim on Alice.

"Because the Oraculum had foretold it." replied Mirana sharply, an unreadable expression printed on her face.

Iracebeth's heart leapt as she saw the crown whip away from her sister's head and into the middle of the dance floor. Her _rightful_ crown. How she wished to chase after it. But (with great difficulty) she controlled herself. Then, with all the force and energy she had remaining within her, she hurled the dagger at Alice. It spun silently through the air before its uneven blade cut smoothly into her, as if she were soft fruit. As she fell to the ground, like a chopped down tree, a wave of nostalgia swept through Iracebeth. The words "Off with her head!"echoed stridently through her mind, but remained unsaid on her tong.

Mirana had failed. Lost. Alice was as good as gone, and the mad man was broken inside. Mirana had been beaten. Iracebeth was victorious. She tried with all her might to contain a squeal of joy. Joy was juvenile. Triumph and victory however, were good and acceptable adult emotions. And they tasted so much sweeter than joy. And so triumphantly victorious, Iracebeth - the uninvited guest, left the party in ruins.

**A/N Okay, that's a bit cliffy. If I'm honest I'll be surprised if anyone reads this, given the unholy long time I left you waiting. Believe me, I feel really guilty about it already. Apparently prioritising Fanfiction over schoolwork isn't actually prioritising :p But it's the Summer Holidays, so I'll do my best to get the next chapter up quick smart ^_~**

**As always reviews are greatly appreciated! And constructive criticism is valued. **

**(But criticism for criticism's sake (just being mean) will not be tolerated (grrr…) and I will hound you to remove it from the reviews page.) **

**Next chapter is from Alice's point of view as she is trapped between three worlds: Over land, Underland and Limbo. **

**Thank You so much for reading! **


	12. When Empathy Escapes Him

Chapter 12

"_When Empathy Escapes Him…"_

Shrill screaming penetrated Alice's eardrums, as the rest of the party noticed the blood on the chequered dance floor. _Her_ blood. She couldn't move from the pain. It wasn't only down her left side, but all through her body. If she moved a muscle in her arm, it intensified the pain from her wound. Every part of her was connected to her injury, as if it were a spider in its web: If there was any movement anywhere, the vibrations would travel back to it, where it would maliciously seethe again. The only thing that she was certain of about her surroundings, was that she was in the Hatter's arms. The warmth radiating from his body through to hers, was the only pleasant sensation Alice could feel. With her face wet with tears, she attempted to make out what was going on.

At the sound of the screaming, the White Queen's guards had swarmed in from the forest. Some of them were even still clutching their poker hands behind their backs. Mirana silently cursed every single one of them for being so useless in her hour of need. In _Alice's _hour of need. A crowd of party goers in white had gathered round Alice and the Hatter, looking ominously like glowing angels or ghosts, there to take her to the afterlife. Like everyone else's, the White Queen's dark eyes were glued to Alice's wound. Alice didn't want to look at it. It would only make it hurt more. The White Rabbit stood at the billowing skirts of Mirana, holding the lonesome crown like an abandoned child. His little face filled with terror as he whispered:

"It went right through…" as he held his tiny paws and the crown to his heart.

Alice's eyes went against her better judgement, and darted towards her injury. McTwisp was right. The dagger had gone right through her hip, as its viciously sharp blade pointed up to the sky. Never had Alice felt more immaterial. How could something _just cut through her body_?The body that had endured every hardship and trial thrown at her since birth. It had grown with her, and faced a Bandersnatch, a Jabberwocky and so many corsets. How could it be so weak? She thought that she was stronger than this. Or had her Hatter just convinced her that this was the case? True, he'd convinced her that she was something different, and special. Something blessed. But now Alice thought herself foolish for having believed him; as her heart beat at an unnaturally fast pace, as if it were attempting to beat all the heart beats of a life time, in her last remaining moments. Alice cursed her heart for being such a defeatist. And she was sure, that if she had the Hatter's heart in her chest, it would not surrender so easily.

Alice had been correct in her assumption. Looking at it did make the pain worse. She unwillingly let herself groan a dragging and omitting groan. Her eyes shut tightly as her head dipped back and her stomach eased upwards, in a failed attempt to shift the throbbing ache. Feeling pathetically inept, the Hatter placed his hand on the side of Alice's burning hot face.

"Alice," he spoke quietly, but his words were heard by all, as they travelled through the solemn silence. "Alice, please look at me."

"Please, get it out." Alice moaned, still not opening her eyes. Her voice had to fight hard to get up her throat and past a threshold, created by her pain. "Please, just get it out!"

The Hatter looked to Mirana, with wide panic filled eyes, for assurance. The White Queen tried to keep her face sombre as she swallowed to speak. Her voice was teetering on the edge of sobs.

"If we take it out, she'll only die faster. The dagger is the only thing stopping ever drop of her blood, spilling freely from her." To this many mouths opened, only to show fearful and cowering half words inside, before their teeth came together again. All except the Hatter's.

"But you foresaw this." he uttered, his voice wavering to become higher as he spoke - it sounded almost as if he were accusing her of something. "The Oraculum will have shown you this precise picture. I've seen you heal this nature of wound before. Surely you would have brought the equipment and ointments to fix this. You can fix this." he added desperately.

"I couldn't-" she began, with guilt shaking her speech.

"It is you're duty as a White Witch of Medicine-" he cut across, his voice even more desperate now. As he weaved his fingers through Alice's, she squeezed tightly, as women do when giving berth.

"It was not my intention to heal the wound. I was bound by a higher power. Tarrant, you have to understand-" the words tumbled from her mouth, as mournfully as tears.

"You were going to let her die?" He cried out, his voice broke with disbelief as the distress in his eyes redoubled. The Queens words drummed the bleakness of the situation into him, as they sank deeper and deeper.

"Please, I know that it seems unjustifiable, but in time…" Mirana stopped, realising the selfishness of her actions. How could she try and redeem herself now, in the final moments of Alice's life? "Alice is dying. This time is precious." Her speech lingered in the ears of everyone there; as their meaning became more and more apparent, as gradually as a blooming rose opens. Now Mirana did not mask her emotions, but left them naked and open for all to see. What she once thought to be honesty, now seemed like disclosing vulnerability.

The Hatter drew his eyes away from Mirana and looked down at Alice. Her face contorted as she attempted to speak again, but she seemed unable to form words. And then, with what seemed like a tremendous effort, she opened her eyes. As she looked up at him, she could feel every cell of her body pulsing to a different rhythm at a different time, as her vision blurred with tears. The Hatter could feel the disorderly beat coming from her body. The fear he saw in her eyes was unmistakable. It bore right into him, and created hairline cracks all the way around his heart. He heard the breaking organ scream in time with the beat of Alice's. He wished on every star in the sky for them to be quiet. But they wouldn't be silenced. They joined the numerous sounds and voices in his head, as his own voice remained stubbornly mute. The lost words stammered aimlessly about his labyrinth of a brain, with no hope of finding the exit. The Hatter attempted to coax the words to form on his tongue, but as soon as his eyes met with Alice's, they drowned in each others sorrow.

They had waited so long to be together. The time he had spent watching clocks tick teasingly slowly, as he awaited her return, alone. And now they counted the last fleeting seconds of her life tick on by, and savoured them, together. It was unjust. It was tormenting. It was heartbreaking. But no matter what, it was happening. This realisation hit the Hatter hard. He doubled over to place his forehead on Alice's, where he began to cry softly and silently. Warm tears ran down his hollow cheeks and onto hers; where they mixed with one another and ran into Alice golden hair. The crowd watched with knots tied in their windpipes, as they didn't dare to breath. The party guests watched the moment that wasn't theirs to feel, but felt it all the same. It shadowed their once carefree hearts, and made a place for itself amongst their memories.

Unable to bare it any longer, Alice spoke:

"I'm dying, aren't I?" the acceptance in her voice was a surprise, even to her. When The Hatter opened his large and extraordinarily green eyes, Alice stifled a whimper. He was defiantly in as much pain as her, if not more; and he made no effort to conceal it.

"But you can't be." he replied, in a faltering attempt to reassure himself as well as Alice; still not pulling his gaze from hers. "You're strong, you always have been, and still are and will remain to be-" his speech became more frantic as his lisp crept in, before he abruptly swallowed his words down.

"I've never been as strong as you've believed me to be-" Alice's body suddenly tensed up again, causing her to writhe slowly to one side, and towards the Hatter. "It hurts so much ." She breathed; the words practically crawled out of her mouth as a wave of agony moved through her body.

His heart yelped, as the cracks became intense. At the sight of Alice in pain, it was threatening to break. The Hatter cursed his heart for not being any stronger. He had never thought it to be so feeble before. He could fix it for Alice. He could fix anything, if he had the time. But he didn't. Alice and him never did. When empathy escaped him, Time could practice the harshest acts of cruelty.

"What did I ever do, to anger time so greatly?" he whispered, his words were only spoken to himself, and Time. But as always, Time wasn't listening. Time had spent many hours listening to the ramblings of mad men, and heard nothing of interest. Nothing that would make topical conversation anyway. Time had always been a conservationist. And so, he allowed the mad man and the world jumping blonde girl, a few more moments to talk. A little more time. Only a little.

"I should have known from my dream…" Alice spoke again, the volume of her voice would have been intimidated by that of a whisper. The Hatter's ears strained to hear it over the sound of his complaining and hurting heart. Alice continued, lifting her gaze to meet the Hatter's once more: "My dream ended this way, I should have known."

The manner in which Alice spoke the last four words perturbed the Hatter. She spoke them as if she were angry, but only with herself.

"What should you have known?" he asked, taking both of her hands in his, worry playing on his face.

"That this is how I'd die." Alice paused, as if the effort of speaking had become too painful, but then continued all the same. "My dream ended this way, this has to be-"

"No," the Hatter stopped her, by gently placing his fingertips to her lips. He had just remembered something. Something that had graciously slipped his mind, only recently. The second time Alice had come to Underland, she had been fond of calling it "Her dream." As if none of it had been real. At the time, the Hatter had considered it to be a truly frightful and depressing thought. To only exist within the confines of Alice's imagination whilst she slept. To have no real, true or profound effect on her or her life; had seemed a terrible prospect. But now, it seemed all too appealing. For if this wasn't real, Alice could wake up unscathed and comfortable. Perhaps even relieved that none of this had happened. She would never have had her body stolen, crouched naked on a tea table, been scratched, or confided in him about a frightening nightmare. Or kissed him. Or been so badly hurt. It almost seemed plausible. Or did he just hope it was? No, she had been right, this was her dream. It had to be.

"Your dream only ended this way, because you woke up." he slowly moved his fingers from her lips, a sad acceptance swimming in his eyes. "And that's all you're going to do now; awake happy and safe-"

"But, for me to wake up, this would have to be a…" Alice expression shifted into one of pure horror and she gasped, as she realised exactly what the Hatter meant. She lifted a hand to grip the Hatter's shirt, just above his heart. As she spoke her voice was disbelieving as she fought against the threshold of pain. "No! You can't say that! How could you even…?" Alice trailed off, not allowing herself to rise her voice at the Hatter any longer. He looked back at her, surprised at her reaction. For a moment, Alice mused about why the Hatter's heart would be beating so forcefully, before speaking again, quieter and softer: "You have to be real. If nothing else, you have to be… I love you."

The love with which Alice spoke her words, seemed to envelope and sooth the Hatter's sore heart. The shadow of a smile broke across his lips, before he held his hand over his chest, and over Alice's gripping hand. He lent down slowly and kissed her swiftly but tenderly. He wished he could have kissed her more before coming to the party.

The meagre warmth radiating from his body, reminded Alice of how unnaturally hot she was. How her body was overheating and shutting down in cordial submission to death. Still holding himself low and close to Alice, the Hatter uttered quietly: "I'd rather not be real at this moment."

She had done this, Alice thought. She had made the Hatter wish he were not real. For his existence to be revoked. Guilt stung her viciously throughout her form. She did not want to leave the Hatter with only sad memories and emptiness. She'd take it all with her, if she could. All the sorrow and grief she had caused him; and leave her love behind. All of it behind for him. If she was going to her grave, she might as well swallow his sadness, and take it with her. Even if that hurt worse than dying.

"Please don't be sad." she pleaded, nestling her face next to his. No sooner did she say her words, did a inconceivably heavy weight seem to fall from the Hatter's chest, to hers. It took her by surprise. It felt much like when you walk down the stairs overconfidently with the lights off, and forget that the last step is there; your foot plunges into an unknown darkness, and you feel as if you've tumbled into a deep and dark abyss. All because one step caught you unawares. Alice could feel the weight in her chest settle there. It seemed to pin her down to that specific spot. As if it, itself, wanted to hold her there. The Hatter appeared not to have noticed at all, as he searched his mind for a response, to such an impossible request.

Time grew weary of this scene. He had seen heartfelt goodbyes before, and most of them had had the good courtesy not to drag on too long. This one however, grew tedious. Mortal beings did get needlessly attached to things so easily. Money, buildings, lands and others always seemed so dear to them. Time had never understood why. His shadowy figure stood on the sidelines, in the woods, invisible to all. He drew a delicate hourglass from his pocket, small enough to fit between his thumb and forefinger. In the middle of the two sand chambers, where the sand would fall from one to another, the glass was especially thin, and therefore fragile. The top and base of the hourglass were a smooth but strong silver. Engraved on the base, was Alice's name and a roman numeral, to indicate which number Alice she was. There had been a few, but none as troublesome as her to keep track of. This was made all the more insulting when she failed to keep track of _him_. Time found it darnn right inconsiderate that she jumped from one world to another so close to her deathday.

He held the hourglass at both ends so that it was horizontal, and snapped it. There's no echo like the echo of a cracking hourglass; it rings on and on in the ears of Time. The fragile glass at its centre broke apart, and the sparkling sand ran freely from it to the ground; evaporating into thick smoke before it came into contact with the soil of the living. In doing so, he had ended her life. With his duty done, time left the unfortunate child to breathe her last breath, with no interference from him.

Alice's whole body suddenly stiffened under the Hatter's, as she drew the sharpest of breaths. Every part of her, except her newly heavy chest, felt lighter. Even empty. As the Hatter tried to draw away from her with fright, Alice attempted to clutch onto him and keep him close. But she was too drained. She could feel the empty space where her energy had once been. Her muchness was fading as her vision became less and less clear, as if she were looking through a frosty window. All sound became warped and distorted, as it does when one immerses their head underwater. Behind the silhouette of the Hatter she could see the white mass of the crowd leaning in closer. But it was the thing behind them that Alice was focusing on. Through her deteriorating vision she could see seven extremely bright lights soaring towards her, from the boundless heights of the sky. The stars. They had to be the stars. As they shot closer and closer towards her, their brightness burnt her eyes, and obscured the forms around her even more. They brutally tore through the emerald night sky, leaving a trail behind them. But no one else seemed affected by them. In fact, no one else had even noticed them. Alice's eyes were the only ones able to behold them.

Then panic ensued amongst the silhouettes of the party guests. Their voices came from far away, but they were so loud, they sounded as if the person were yelling at the top of their lungs, into Alice's ear. First came the Hatter's.

"Alice? What's happening? You're… you're fading." his silhouette jerked and shifted about in Alice's vision, before it blurred into the rest of the shadows. Alice tried her utmost to keep him in focus. But he was gone. She was leaving him.

One shadow left the black throng, and came closer to her. It lent towards her wound and sniffed it. The sound of its inhaling was almost deafening, as it ripped through her ear drums.

"Jabberwocky blood," breathed the White Queen's voice laced with dread. "Iracey, what gave you done…?"

The awe consuming lights swallowed the mass of shadows. Their voices were silenced. It swallowed everything. It stole everything and everyone from her. Alice felt the stars shoot past her and through the floor, as if it was not there, with the force of cannon balls hitting the water's surface. As the remainder of Underland dissolved into the brightest of white lights. Alice felt it surround her, and take all that she was. Her body that had just felt so much pain seemed to fall away and disappear. The light took everything. Everything except the weight in her chest.

**A/N I know that I said that Alice would go to Limbo in this chapter, but it kind of got ahead of me. I expected it to be about half this long (sorry) I should keep my Fanfiction to a stricter schedule. Oh well… The next chapter is going to be Limbo, definitely. If it's not, then I will personally send you a bundle of peacock feathers, if you want them. (really, I will) **

**So what do you think? Tell me! I'm eternally grateful for the reviews I received so far ^_^ Thank you so much! **

**If you've read this far and not reviewed, Why ever not?**

**I will update as soon as I can! I promise ^_~ **


	13. Limbo: Unpleasentries

**A/N**** Just in case any of you thought anything in the last two chapters was amiss (if you thought it was fine, I wouldn't bother reading this): **

**I thought someone would notice that the Hatter was being a bit useless when trying to help/ heal Alice. I mean, he carries a roll of bandages in his pocket and everything. But the only thing you can do with a wound like that is take the dagger/ knife/ sword/ stake out, and put pressure on the wound. And Mirana (the only one there with experience in medical practice, so of course you're going to listen to her) explicitly told him not to do that, because the blood would just spill out of Alice. And since the dagger when right through her, the affect of putting pressure on the wound would have been minimal. **

**And I know Cheshire didn't confront the White Queen about how she was treating Alice and the Hatter, (as I'm sure a few of you thought he would) But he didn't get an invitation, so he was a bit peeved about that. So any confrontation between him and Mirana, would have purely been fuelled by that; because he is, after all, selfish. And he knew nothing of Alice's dream, (that was always between her and the Hatter). So really, he was a little less aware of the seriousness of the situation. And I'm getting most of my character references from the first draft of the script, where he shows extreme apathy towards others. But also in the film, the Cheshire cat makes himself scarce at the slightest sign of danger: Such as when the Knave comes to the tea party, and all through out the actual Frabjous day battle he is nowhere to be seen until the end, when the danger has passed. **

**Okay, Beta Reader's qualms settled, on with the chapter.**

Chapter 13

Limbo: _Part One, Un-pleasantries_

Alice awoke to see that her legs were above her head. Her hands groped about, as her torso quickly sprang upright. Under her fingertips, Alice felt the earthy rim of a wide and shallow rabbit hole. She was sitting in a rabbit hole. Her mind began gathering her scattered memories, and arranging them back into chronological order. Alice remembered everything. She hadn't expected to, but she did. Every moment from Underland played and flickered behind her eyes. From the moment she arrived, to the moment she died.

She had died.

The thought didn't seem real. It certainly didn't feel real. She had died in the Hatter's arms, as he mourned her death, as it was happening. She remembered feeling it _then. _The gut-wrenching and all consuming sadness. But not now. Why couldn't she feel it now? When you leave someone dear to you, someone you love, it's supposed to hurt; perhaps forever. But it didn't. Why didn't she hurt? She wanted to feel that one particular hurt. Of course she did. It felt wrong not to. A wave of shame washed swiftly and powerfully through Alice. She had left the one man she had ever loved, and she couldn't feel it. Had she no heart?

Looking around her environment, Alice could see that she was back home; Or at least, somewhere that looked like her home. The world spun as if it were trying to overtake itself, something it did to Alice all too often. Through her disorientated vision, Alice could make out the lush green lawn. It looked like the wide open fields of her family's garden, and her grand London house stood were it usually stood. Only a few meters away, she could even see the picnic basket she had brought out for the rabbits. But something wasn't right. How did she get here? She was dying, and now she was here. This couldn't be her home, no matter how similar it was. Alice put her hands over her face and closed her eyes, so that she didn't have to look at the world around her, and thought to herself. But her thoughts came all too quickly, and the contradicting thoughts argued with each other:

"Maybe this is what happens if an Overlander dies in Underland; they just… come back."

"That seems highly unlikely."

"But it's the only logical explanation."

"Since when has your logic been any good?"

"Well, it's the only logic I have…"

"And it's terrible. I wouldn't use it. In fact, stop using it, right now."

"Then what should I do?"

"Look about your surroundings."

"I already did that. I know where I am: Overland, England, my garden."

"How can you be sure of that? Did you see the rabbit hole as you came up?"

"Well, no, but I was dying. I was pretty preoccupied "

"Then how do you know you're not dead? _Logically_, if you were dying and no intervention or action was taken, then you must be dead."

"No, I'm not dead. I can't be dead, if I'm talking to myself."

"Stand up then. You've seen very few dead people stand up."

Alice didn't move. Keeping her hands over her eyes, she rocked back and forth, as she whispered: "Stand up, stand up, stand up…"

As Alice rocked forward again, and propelled herself up and out of the rabbit hole. As she took the first broad and stumbling steps, taking her hands away from her face, she felt a rare feeling. A feeling that one feels on that scarce occasion when you wake up completely refreshed, and you simply jump straight out of bed. An empty but purposeful dizziness. The ground felt real, but that proved nothing. How was she to verify whether she was dead or alive? What do live people do that dead people can't (besides standing)?

They Breathe.

Alice lifted her head upwards and went to take a breath. She opened her mouth to inhale, but no air passed her lips. There was no air to breathe in. But this didn't matter. The sky told her that she was not home. Unlike this sky, the sky at home and in Underland had a sun. This one did not. In place of the familiar bright ball of blinding light, there was a patch of the night sky. The rest of the sky sported the same dismal blue-gray daytime skies of England, but in the space where the sun should have been, was a segment of the night sky. As if someone had cut a peace from the night sky, and sewn it over the sun, to dim its light. Alice felt this was particularly foreboding. It felt unnatural even looking at it. Like staring at a dead animal, it almost sickens you to look - but it is so perversely intriguing, you can't draw your gaze away. Alice just wanted to reach up and rip the night away, to reveal the day light. She wanted it gone, but she hadn't the power to remove it. She could handle the eccentricities of Underland: The impossibly tall mushrooms, evaporating cats and talking flowers. But the absence of the sun was just too strange.

Alice had to look at something else. Or think about something else. Say she was dead, which it she certainly wasn't, but say she was - something had to have killed her. The memories flashed before her again: The crowd dressed in white, her distressed Hatter and a dagger sticking up through her left side. A long, glinting, pointed dagger had gone right through her hip. Her hands shot to her left side, but couldn't find it; the dagger or her left side. When Alice went to look at her body, she inhaled sharply (although there was no air to breath). Her whole body was semitransparent, as if she were a light projection of herself. Alice gawped at her translucent hands. Holding them up to the sky, she could she the patch of night shining through them. Her gaze snapped again to her left side. There was a hole, a gap, a blankness. As if that part of her had been erased and rubbed out. Exactly where the dagger had been, was simply gone.

Alice went to panic. But she didn't. It was quite clear what was going on here. She was dreaming. That would explain this strange world, and her worrying lack of emotion. Alice pinched the top of her left arm. Nothing happened. She could barely feel it. Could she even feel it at all? She pinched harder. Nothing. She pinched the most malicious pinch she had ever pinched. Still nothing. Once again, her father's tip had proved useless. Well, not completely useless; she knew she wasn't dreaming. But that wasn't a comfort.

Apart from the sky, there was another difference about this garden. A small distance away from Alice, stood a freestanding full length mirror. Its moulded and golden gilded frame ran all the way round its edge; depicting sculpted moody and distrustful looking cherubs. Their podgy faces seemed to glare at Alice as she approached the mirror. Her reflection walked forward to greet her. But there was one problem with it - the reflection looked nothing like Alice:

It was the same height as her, and it had her face. Well, most of her face. There was a fine glossy black eye patch, over the right side of her face; which indicated that the reflection had lost its eye, and cased unsightly damage to the right side of its face in the process. It had Alice's long fair hair, except the colour was a much duller grimy gold. All of its thick hair was bunched up to one side in tight curls, whilst a small bowler hat perched on the other side of her head. Alice knew that she was still wearing the dress the Hatter had lovingly made for her, but her reflection wasn't; it was wearing men's clothing. Baggy pinstriped trousers hung down its legs and dangled over its smartly shined shoes, that reminded Alice of black beetles shells. Buttoned tightly over a plain long-sleeved shirt, her reflection sported a very fine dark embroidered waistcoat; from which a tarnished bulky pocket watch was hung. Numerous things about this reflection reminded Alice of Hamish. It's silken floppy bow tie, and its snooty bothered expression conjured up recollections of her previous red haired suitor. It also reminded her of Mallymkun, since attached to its belt it had a netting bag, containing a rather dry looking eyeball. Alice felt glad she had a stronger stomach, other wise she'd be dry vomiting.

But lastly, this reflection reminded her of Absolem. For in its left hand, it held a long and elegant dark wood pipe. The reflection exhaled an unholy amount of dense smoke. It stayed perfectly still, and stared at Alice with unblinking eyes as the smoke flowed around its head and filled the mirror's surface. Alice could tell from its expression that it wanted her to talk. She instantly took it to be a wise creature; maybe it could answer some of her questions.

"Am I dead?" Alice asked awkwardly.

It blinked and paused before answering. "Shouldn't you aught to know that?"

Alice nearly jumped back in alarm when she heard it speak with her voice, but in a tone she had never used.

"Yes I aught, but I'm rather confused." Alice admitted, feeling a little anxious, "I don't even know where I am."

"You don't know much, do you?" it remarked with particular indifference, putting the pipe to its lips once again.

"It's rather rude to answer a question with another question." said Alice, her patience was running short already.

"It's rather foolish to expect any better of me." It smirked, with smoke freely leaking out of her mouth.

Alice's brow narrowed. "Can you at least tell me where I am?"

"That's not the question I'm here to answer." it replied curtly.

"What question are you here to answer?"

"I'm not here to answer that question either."

"Then why are you here?" Alice raised her voice with frustration.

"To answer one particular question, when you ask it." the reflection lifted her head contemptuously, "Not that you're going to ask it any time soon, you're really quite slow."

"How could you expect me to understand all this?" asked Alice, her voice wobbling slightly with stress.

"I didn't, I've been in your head long enough." it replied knowingly.

"I'm sorry?" Alice blurted out incredulously.

"Don't you know who I am?" it stared at her more intently now, with disbelieving eyes.

"No." replied Alice, feeling curious now.

"Then why didn't you ask?" it snapped in an annoyed tone.

"Is that the question you're here to answer?"

"No, it's not."

"Would you have answered it?"

"No…" it replied, putting particular emphasis on the "o", as if it were trying to recall something important. "I suppose I wouldn't have…"

There was a silence as her reflection looked pensively to the left, oblivious of Alice. Looking around, Alice saw that there was no one else to talk to. This obstinate reflection was her only port of information. She decided to reattempt a conversation.

"Who are you?" she asked as politely as she could.

"I'm your Unpleasantness - Damn it!" the reflection looked up at Alice, suddenly angry. "You made me answer the wrong question. You idiot!"

"I didn't mean to." replied Alice defensively. "But you can't be my unpleasantness."

"You did, and I am." it said shortly, taking another puff from her pipe.

"But you can't be." Alice insisted.

"Why not?" asked the reflection, as if this conversation was the most tedious one taking place throughout the world.

"You're nothing like me." Alice replied simply.

"Of course I'm nothing like you," retorted the reflection, mockingly mimicking Alice simply tone. "You give me so little head space. Look!" as the reflection said this, she tapped heavily on the edges of the mirror to illustrate her point. Physically, this creature had an uncanny likeness to Alice. But what it was saying couldn't be true. Could it?

"This is absurd." Alice thought aloud; still not accepting that this odd reflection was a part of her mind. It was simply impossible. Bits of her mind, no matter how irksome they were, belonged inside of her head.

"If you were my unpleasantness, then you'd be inside my mind." said Alice, feeling sure that she'd caught the reflection out.

"Who's to say we're not in you mind right now?" posed the reflection, again mimicking Alice's tone.

"Are we?" Alice replied, a shadow of hope on her face. The reflection nodded and held in a smirk. This instantly made Alice suspicious. "Really?" she asked wearily.

"No." it replied, patronisingly putting emphasis on the "o". "Do you think I'd be behind this window if we were _inside _your head?" she knocked on the glass of the mirror before grumbling: "That's a preposterous thought, and a cruel one; to keep me cooped up like this, one would think I had no rights. You should listen to me more often…" she raised the pipe to her lips again and ceased her muttering.

"Is there anyone else I can talk to?" Alice asked, with a voice exasperated by restrained annoyance.

"Yes," replied the reflection quickly, as if she had been waiting a millennium for Alice to ask. "That is the question I'm here to answer." the reflection paused, and exhaled a copious amount of billowing smoke. From its expression, Alice could tell that this reflection revelled in testing her patience. "There are two others from within your mind here." she explained. "My counterpart, your Pleasantness, is here. And your Love is here as well, but I wouldn't talk to her. She's the most insufferable person I've ever met. My god, she goes on and on about that lunatic Tarrant. I am sick to death of hearing about him. Sometimes I wish she was mute instead of blind; then she wouldn't have lost our heart so easily. She calls it hers, but its ours really, she's so selfish. And self-righteous - she took my eye you know!" the reflection pointed towards her eye patch and gave Alice a look . "And scarred my face really badly, the little bitch." the reflection's expression shifted to one of twisted pride. "But then again, I repaid the favour, an eye for and eye and all that." looking self-satisfied, the reflection continued smoking.

Alice's gaze unwillingly drifted to the eye attached to the reflection's belt. She thought how spiteful this creature would have to be, to gouge out someone's eye, simply for the sake of retaliation. Alice wished to leave its company as soon as possible.

"Where are the others?" She asked, keeping her tone civil and pleasant.

"Well," began the reflection, coughing slightly "My counterpart, the wet blanket, Pleasantness, is over there." The reflection angled herself in the minimal space in the mirror, to point at the building that resembled Alice's house.

"Thank you." replied Alice courteously.

"I should think so." said the reflection dryly. Alice took no notice. Feeling glad to be leaving the horrid character, she went to walk away, but the reflection called after her. "That's a really lovely dress."

Alice turned, feeling sceptical of the complement. "Thank you."

"It _really_ doesn't suit you." it added malevolently.

Realising that this was the voice, that had been whispering in her ear as she got changed for the party, Alice swiftly turned and marched away from it. If what it was saying was true, and it was her Unpleasantness, than she would limit its headspace even further, and never listen to it, ever again.

Keeping her eyes fixed to what looked like her house, Alice walked briskly across the lawn, and tried not to dwell on missing suns and eyes.

**A/N**** Sorry for the long A/N at the beginning of the chapter. Again this chapter was longer than I had expected it to be. I had wanted to get Alice's Pleasantness and Unpleasantness in the same chapter, but no such luck. More will be explained in the next chapter about Alice's "state." (because as you would expect, Pleasantness is a lot more helpful than her counterpart) All questions you had in this chapter will be answered, I promise (have faith in me) **

**Reviews are one of the loveliest things in the world (I can't believe I got 50! *_*) **

**So please, please review lovely people! **


	14. Limbo: Pleasantness and Hairpins

**A/N I have always been quite fond of the idea that when we die, our soul becomes a star (I think its an Aboriginal belief)**

Chapter 13

_Limbo: Part 2, Pleasantness and Hairpins _

There were a few things about this world, that indicated it wasn't Overland. The first being the sky. Not only did it not have a sun, but also it was much lower than the usual Overland sky. Alice could even see it curving downwards to meet the horizon beyond the copy of her house; making a large dome shape. She felt as if she were trapped in a snow globe. The second factor being Alice's clothes. Although her dress, and the rest of Alice, was semitransparent, it was still the same dress she had been wearing in Underland. When she had first returned to Overland from Underland on the Frabjous day, she had come back wearing her blue dress, (that she was certain had been ripped to shreds by an overindulgence of upelkuchen), and not the champion's silver suit of armour. Therefore the likelihood that this was Overland grew slimmer. The third and most persuasive, was the freestanding mirror in the middle of the garden; who's reflection claimed to be Alice's unpleasant traits. Something Alice had never come across in Overland. Also something Alice did not accept to be true, but understood to a certain degree; as she made her way over to lawn, to meet with her Pleasantness.

But if this wasn't Underland or Overland, then where was it? More worryingly, what was Alice? One would think she was alive because she could walk, but dead because she didn't have a fully visible body. She was see-through as ghosts are presumed to be. You may also conclude she was alive because she could hear and speak, but dead because she couldn't breathe. And dead because she couldn't feel the emotions she was obliged to feel. The feelings she wanted more than anything to feel. She wanted to miss the Hatter, with every bone in her translucent body. Never had she craved longing and misery more. The shame twisted her insides round tightly, so that there was no way she could ignore it. She didn't want to ignore it, for Alice knew that the Hatter would be weeping in her absence. Maybe even blaming himself for her… for her death. Alice had been dying, she knew that much, which wasn't much at all. Then she had seen an obscenely bright light, that seemed to take over everything about her, and then she… Alice came to an abrupt halt in her families court yard, as the one conclusion stared her adamantly in the face. She was dead. There was no escaping it. No other answer to her questions. Almost every single one of them could be answered with that one simple fact.

Denial yelled persistently in Alice's ears, whilst she stood as still as the garden ornaments surrounding her. Denial had a very loud voice, but it was easy enough to block out. Curiosity however, is much more persuasive. Alice had yet to see her own semitransparent body in a mirror. But now as she stood beside an unmoving pond in the centre of the courtyard, she couldn't help but want to look at herself on its reflective surface. Succumbing to curiosity, Alice took a step closer to the water - only to see she had no reflection. Feeling disappointed, and yet more convinced she was dead, Alice continued on her way up to what looked like her home.

As Alice drew closer to the house's steps, she could make out the wooden outline of a full length mirror, fixed to the outside wall of the house, next to the back door. Its shining glass stood apart from the dull brick of the wall it was mounted on. Decorating its maple wood frame were carved flowers, that gleamed fiery colours in the meagre light of the suppressed sun. The mirror's glass was quite a bit wider than the first had been, and somehow seemed a lot more welcoming. As Alice ascended the stairs, her reflection did the same. Yet again, the reflection looked nothing like Alice looked now. The reflection was a child, and quite a bit shorter than Alice herself. Wearing a plain white night gown and a warm expression, it smiled up at her. Remembering family photo albums, Alice was almost certain that this reflection was a duplicate of her seven year old self. If the Hatter was there, he would confirm it. His memories of Alice were some of his clearest and dearest.

Yes, this reflection looked exactly like a seven year old Alice. It had her wide and curious eyes, that Alice had lost at some point during puberty. But Alice still retained some of her childhood features; such as the long flaxen hair and full pink lips. Alice crouched down to sit on her knees and draw level with the child's height.

"Are you my Pleasantness?" asked Alice, in the tone that adults use when they are approaching a child they think is lost.

"Yes, I am." it replied softly, with the voice of an adult Alice.

Shocked, Alice could not refrain from gawping, but tried to all the same. "My Unpleasantness told me to come and speak to you." Alice explained, hoping that this reflection would be more helpful than the first.

"I had hoped she would, she can be quite unreliable." replied the reflection, as if it were the wiser half of the conversation. "I'm sure you have many questions, so please don't be afraid to ask them." she told Alice, with the endearing openness that is rarely possessed by adults.

Alice wasn't sure why, but she felt guilty wanting to unload all of her complex questions on someone so young; or at least, someone who looked so young. But there was something about the child's voice, that seemed older than Alice herself. There was more experience there, as if it had dealt with more hardship than her. Almost similar to her mother's voice. Something clicked in Alice's mind, sending memories of her mother, before and after her father died, breezing through her head; just long enough for the guilt to twist Alice's guts a little tighter. Had she been gone long enough for her mother to notice her absence? She sincerely hoped not. Her reflection waited patiently for Alice to respond, her eyes utterly unblinking.

Alice went to take a deep breath, but again there was no air. Alice wanted a breath. She needed a breath. This place was almost maddening.

"Am I dead?" Alice asked, her stress and anxiety gleamed through her eyes, obvious to anyone who looked to see it.

"No, not completely." the child answered confidently, thankful that Alice had spoken "You are only half dead."

"I don't understand." Alice admitted.

"Part of you is still alive." she continued gently. The child spoke slowly, to allow Alice time to get to grips with the idea. "As of yet, you haven't fully passed over to the afterlife."

"Then…" Alice paused. The confirmation that she was dead, or at least halfway there, was rather unsettling. "Then where am I? What's happening to me?" the panic in her voice shook it slightly. Never had Alice felt so powerless or lost. Most of all lost.

"That is such a simple question, and yet it has quite a complicated answer." a small and unintended laugh drifted out on the child's voice, like a stowaway or a hitchhiker. "Isn't that always the way?"

The reflection left the question hanging between them long enough for Alice to answer it, but she didn't. The child continued: "Right now, the place your consciousness is looking at, is a mixture of Limbo and Overland. Limbo doesn't look like this normally, but the Jabberwocky blood in your system perplexed them somewhat."

"Perplexed who?" asked Alice, frustrated by her own lack of understanding.

"The souls that brought you here. But I suppose you think of them as stars, and not souls." the reflection could see that Alice still didn't understand as best she could. But if she were to explain these complexities to her now, they'd run out of time. They were rather short of time, but Alice's Pleasantness didn't want to cause Alice any more aggravation than was necessary. She continued: "The picnic basket on the lawn, is the one you brought out this morning, the exact same one. The house behind me, is your house, just as you remember it. But the sky you can see is not Overland's, but Limbo's. The living residents here see everything as they usually see it. They can't see the mirrors you've been looking into, or the sky that perturbs you so. And you, they can't see you."

These notions appeared blank in front of Alice, and took their time to expand and become clearer, but they still weren't totally comprehensible. Like when a photograph never properly develops.

"It is one of the rarest of situations, for one soul to be spread out between three worlds." acknowledged the child, as she saw Alice's brow come together.

"Three worlds?" Alice uttered, hope rising within her that the third would be Underland.

"Yes, you left two things of yours in Underland. These two things are keeping you tied to that world." said the reflection, as if she had read Alice's mind. "You will notice that Love's counterpart Hate isn't with us." in truth Alice hadn't noticed, but she nodded all the same. "That is because Hate resides within your shadow. She was always too weak to stay in your head. All of our loud voices were just too much for her. She couldn't leave you entirely, she is rather attached to you; she won't admit it but she is. So we decided that your shadow was the best place for her. Just until she regains her strength."

Alice was perplexed again. As soon as she thought she was close to understanding, this place vexed her once more. Her reflection could see this.

"You left your shadow in Underland. Hadn't you noticed it wasn't following you?" asked her reflection, looking a little surprised.

Alice hadn't noticed. She had been rather preoccupied with her transparency. She turned round to check for her shadow, but there was nothing there. Throughout the outstretching garden, Alice could see that everything else had a shadow: The trees, shrubs and garden sculptures all cast long proud shadows, as if they were taunting her. What the child was saying was near preposterous, but it would explain the absence of her shadow. Alice turned back to her reflection, who flashed her a sincerely sweet smile.

"You said two things?" Alice checked. The reflection nodded the sudden and low nod, that all children nod, to confirm it. "What else did I leave in Underland?" Alice asked with a subdued eagerness.

"Ah." started the reflection. "I'm afraid I can't tell you. I'm sorry."

"Do you not know?" she replied empathetically.

"Oh, I do. I simply can't tell you." at the quizzing look in Alice's eye, the reflection elaborated. "I promised Love that she could be the one to tell you. And promises are Love's second least favourite broken thing - her words, not mine."

Alice felt that they were drifting off of the point some what. The less she heard about this Love character the better. Alice was still reeling from hearing about how Unpleasantness lost her eye. After all, gouging out someone's eye seemed to be quite an unloving thing to do. Alice decided to stir the conversation back on its original course.

"So, why aren't I dead? How come I haven't passed over?" Alice enquired, unsure weather or not she was going to be grateful of the answer.

"You know why you're not dead." replied the child, as if Alice had just asked what her own name was. "The Hatter told you himself. Don't you trust him?"

"Of course I trust him!" Alice answered abruptly; her loyalty for her Hatter surged up inside her, ready to defend its self. "I just don't understand…"

The reflection flashed a disappointed glance at Alice before speaking again; her expression changed to one of pure fondness: "The Hatter told you that you were strong on several occasions, and you didn't believe him." The child looked into Alice's eyes, and captured her with her unblinking gaze. "But you are. You have to believe that now, more than ever. You haven't passed over because you are strong, and that's the only thing that's going to stop you passing over."

Feeling thoroughly put in her place, Alice didn't question the reflection. She had three questions left to ask, but she felt a niggling certainty that she wouldn't get a satisfactory answer.

"How is it I can see you?" she asked. Her determination to understand was clearly visible on her semitransparent face. "Why is it you're all scattered about outside of my head?"

"Well, we're not really _scattered outside of you head,_" replied the reflection, as if the idea amused her. "These are windows into your mind, not mirrors, as you think they are." Alice had been right in her assumption; that answer was far from clear and satisfactory. The child read this in her face and continued: "When a soul comes to Limbo, it is faced with itself, every aspect of itself, as it waits to pass over. When a soul finally understands and accepts who it is, it makes it much easier for it to pass over to the afterlife."

At the confounded expression on Alice's face, the reflection concluded that she hadn't quite grasped it. She sighed.

"Look, I'm sorry, but we don't have much time as is." said the reflection, in a tone not unlike an overworked parent. "In a few minutes you'll have to enter this house, and I have to prepare you for what's inside."

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Alice raised her voice slightly to mask the worry she felt inside. The rest of her questions seemed inferior now. "What's in there?" she asked, her eyes scanned the windows of the house for a clue, but her search was fruitless.

"Death, he's Time's brother. Not much of a talker, but indeed he is a very hard worker." the child spoke more briskly now, her expression disconcertingly serious. "But he's rather angry with you; you've been rather troublesome. No one has ever spread themselves across the three worlds before, not even Time or Death. He's jealous. Jealous and angry. He wants rid of you, the only way he knows how. If he sees you, he will come for you, and send you to the Other Side."

"Then why must I go in there?" exclaimed Alice, quickly standing up.

"You don't have to." explained the reflection. "Only if you want to return to Underland and the Hatter."

A light of aspiration and relief was lit in Alice's head. It was possible for her to get back to Underland - but this ray of hope was dimmed slightly by the imposing task ahead.

"Is there no other way?" Alice asked desperately.

"I'm afraid not." replied the child sympathetically, her head bowed ever so slightly. "I'm sorry, but you have to do what I say, if you want to get back."

Alice went to breathe deeply, to calm herself, but once again there was no air. A small whimper escaped her lips. She wanted to breathe. She _really_ wanted to breathe. But she couldn't, this world wouldn't let her. Alice craved more than anything to leave this place, and get back… Back anywhere; Underland, Overland, it didn't matter. She just wanted to breathe again.

To do that, it seemed she had to face a furious Death. Something Alice didn't believe she could do.

But then something unexpected happened. Something wonderful. A wave of Hatter-bestowed optimism came over her. She was strong. If he said she was, then she was. She could do this. After all, she had slain a Jabberwocky, had she not? She had stared the _frumious _Bandersnatch in its one eye, and survived to tell the tale. To an onlooker, Alice would look like an accomplished Death-dodger. Golden streaming confidence seemed to flow through her veins, as she forgot about breathing, missing suns and shadows. Yes, she could do this.

"What do I have to do?" Alice asked, her voice completely steady.

"You haven't made it easy for yourself, I have to admit." replied the reflection, its tone remained unchanged. "On the morning you left for Underland you brought out no weapons to arm yourself with; there isn't even a butter knife in that picnic basket. So I'm afraid your only weapon is the hair pin your mother gave you."

"I'm sorry?" Alice blinked. This child had to be joking.

"The morning you left for Underland, your mother put your hair back with a hair pin, and you discarded it over there." the reflection re-worded herself, her voice still retained its patience; as she pointed to the grass a few meters away. "It's the only thing in this garden that can help you."

"A hairpin isn't a weapon!" Alice insisted.

"It is quite a long, sharp hairpin." replied the child calmly, as she offered her meagre consolation.

"That's not-" Alice began and then stopped herself; arguing with her reflection was counterproductive. "Can't I get something sharper from the kitchen once I'm inside."

"To be frank, the less time you spend inside this house, the better." replied the reflection. "If you dilly-dally, looking for weapons that won't be of much help in the end, then Death is more likely to find you. Go and get the hairpin, it will help you." The reflection said this with full faith and certainty. Alice wished she could think like that.

Turning on her heel, Alice rushed down the steps and onto the grass. Behind Alice her reflection did the exact same. Her eyes darted about the lawn for a short while, until something silver and glinting caught them. Tangled among a few blades of grass was a simple double pronged hair pin. Its two long thin teeth, curved inwards slightly at the ends, like claws. At the opposite end of the pin, a peach coloured cameo was glued, depicting an unknown French monarch with a harsh expression. Clutching the hairpin tightly in her right hand, Alice ran back to the maple wood mirror. Her reflection mimicked her, as reflections are supposed to.

"Ready?" it asked, as if the two of them were going inside, when Alice knew full well that the child would not follow her in.

Alice nodded and awaited her instructions.

"When you enter the entrance hall, climb the stairs and walk straight to your bedchambers." directed the reflection. "Love's window or mirror, whatever you want to call it, is on your bedroom door. Inside your chambers is your way back to Underland. On your way there, move swiftly but silently, and talk to no one. Death is most likely to disguise himself as one of the living residants in this house; so be wary. Look at no one and do not hover in one spot for too long. When you reach your door, Love will want to talk. Keep the conversation as brief as you can." ordered the reflection with a warning look. "Love does not have your best interests at heart, and will not understand the seriousness of the situation. Just keep asking her to let you through until she opens the door. If any being within this building moves to touch you, stab it with the hairpin, and sing."

"Sing? Why sing?" Alice aked, as she tried to hold all of the information beeing imparted on her.

"Death cannot abide singing, especially songs of jest and happiness." explained the child, with glee playing on her face. "It hurts him terribly to hear any song. So when music playes, he scuttles away, as a woodlouse does from a burning log. No one knows why…"

"Alright." Alice steadied her nerves, and gave the door handle longest of stares. "Thank you for all your help."

Before Alice placed her hand on the handle, her reflection spoke again: "One last thing."

Alice looked into the mirror again. "Yes?"

"Do not insult Love." the child spoke forebodingly, putting equal emphasis on each word. "She is very sensitive and easily offended." the young reflection sighed. "Sometimes I with she was deaf instead of blind; then she wouldn't get hurt so often, or get into half as many arguments. She might even still have two eyes, if she had learned not to listen earlier…" her expression gave way to pensive recollection, oblivious to Alice.

Alice was sorely tempted to ask what had happened between Love and Unpleasantness, but she managed to rein in her inquisitiveness.

Feeling certain that that was all this reflection had to say, Alice went to bid it farewell again: "Thank you for everything."

The reflection snapped out of her daze, and looked up at Alice with large bright eyes. "The pleasure was all mine. I am really very grateful for the head space you've given me." she added politely, as she smiled charmingly up at Alice, who smiled back in return.

As she gripped the garish hairpin, Alice thought that it had to be the most inept weapon she could ever wield against Death. The longest of far cries from the majesty of the Vorpal Sword. She slowly reached out and clasped the door handle. The adrenaline in her see-through body was ready and waiting to start beating, as soon as she opened the door. As Alice gradually turned the handle, she heard the clicks of the unlocked locking mechanism inside the door, ticking down the seconds she had before entering. The door opened ajar, but all Alice could see inside was darkness. Coaxing her bravery to come forth, Alice stepped into the shadowy abyss. Just as she was closing the door after herself, Alice could hear her pleasantness call out: "Fairfarren Alice."

The door snapped shut behind her. The words of farewell the reflection had spoken, forced memories of the Hatter to surface, before Alice's eyes. They pushed her tears forward, as the darkness rendered the sparkling drops of sorrow invisible.

**A/N Okay, that was a bit of a long chapter, and I didn't even use any dividers ;) The last two chapters have been accomplished by two days of almost constant writing - It feels really good to get it all out! ****Dose anyone think they know which song Alice will sing in the next chapter?**

**Pleeeeeeeeeeeease tell me what you think!**


	15. Limbo: Heartless Love

**A/N This chapter **_**might **_**have to be rated T, might not. On the certificate front, I'm rather dense, so tell me what you think it should be.**

Chapter 13

_Limbo: Part 3, Heartless Love and Death's Stolen Body Parts._

Regrettably, Alice's tears were tears of guilt, and not sadness. But in the silent darkness, Denial can be a lot more persuasive than usual. Sadness and guilt are so easily confused. Alice wished she could differentiate between the two. For when she heard her Pleasantness' words of farewell, she had realised something: She had not once asked the Hatter, how he had faired after she left him on the Frabjous day. It hadn't even crossed her mind. Was she that inconsiderate? Alice had never thought herself to be so. But maybe, deep down, she was a selfish person. The usually deafening voice of Denial remained silent on this matter.

It was dark inside the entrance hall. Corridors leading away to the rest of the house were engulfed in shadow; making it impossible to tell what was prowling down the different hallways. To Alice's right was the foot of the staircase, that ran up and round the room, to the balcony and the top floor of the house. The dimmest shafts of light came through the windows, and hung over the stairs, before illuminating the grandfather clock opposite Alice. To Alice's horror, the clock's face had been broken; as if someone had smashed their fist right into its centre. The clock's hands dangled southwards, lifeless. Alice's father had treasured that clock. She had watched him lovingly restore it in the final months of his life. She could still picture each individual cog of its mechanism, laid out neatly on his work table. Some days he had worked long into the night on it; much to her mother's irritation. Mother had called it his obsession more rather than his project. But when he died, Alice and her mother coveted it above all of his possessions. Even when they had become near bankrupt, (before the Ascots bought the company) they had refused to sell it, even though it would have given them a tidy profit.

But now it stood wrecked and ruined. Useless to anyone. But Alice was sharper than Death had presumed her to be. He was trying to make her go against her Pleasantness' instructions. He was trying to distract her and make her hover. But Alice saw straight through his ploy, and went to proceed to her chambers. But unfortunately, unless you are practiced in the art of thievery, or other such sneaky professions, you must choose between moving up stairs either swiftly, _or _silently. There is no happy medium. Alice decided to move slowly and silently. With every step she took, the boards beneath her feet threatened to creak louder; as if the house was conspiring against her. But she was determined to get the better of it. This house was her territory, not Death's. He should be watchfully tiptoeing around in the dark, frightened, not her. But somehow, he had unjust domain over this house, and not her.

Halfway up the stairs, Alice stepped into the first ray of light coming from the widows. As soon as she did so, Alice heard something stirring in the entrance hall. A cold wave of dread passed down her body, as Alice stood completely still in the shaft of light, in full view of _the thing _hiding in the shadows. Clutching the hairpin tightly, Alice quickly changed her mind, and opted to move swiftly. Her semitransparent form flickered in and out of sight, as she ran up the stairs, and in and out of the suppressed sun beams.

The upstairs of the house was just as dark as the floor below, if not darker. But that didn't hinder Alice much. She had lived in this house for years; and in that time, had done her fair share of wondering around its darkened corridors at night. Some times to keep her strange nightmares at bay - and other times, to tire herself, and bring her dreams to her. The dreams that had been her only form of escape, for the lonesome two months, after she arrived back from her failed voyage to China. The most drummed in memories of her life came into Alice's view, as she pictured the fiery panelled corridor to her chambers. Taking the most cautious steps, Alice made her way down the hallway towards her bedroom. Even in the dark, she knew the door's exact place. Reaching forward, Alice could feel the cold glass surface of a mirror, instead of her familiar wooden door panels. When her fingertips came into contact with the mirror, a light was lit within it.

Her reflection had lit a simple white candle, that illuminated the full contents of the mirror. Once again, the reflection looked nothing like Alice as she was then. Its face was a perfect copy of Alice's, except for a cream silken cloth tied tightly around its head to cover its eyes. On the left hand side of the cloth, there was a deep crimson stain, that Alice averted her eyes from instinctively; as she beat back the stories, told to her by her Unpleasantness. The reflection's hair possessed the same mass of mismatched curls, and shimmering gold colour that Alice's always had. But crowning its full bonnet was a green and battered top hat; with eclectic hatpins, a peacock feather and pink sleek scarf wrapped above its rim. Alice recognised it instantly as the Hatter's hat. The reflections whole attire was made up of the Hatter's clothes and belongings: Joined around her neck was his large and droopy bowtie, whilst draped over her shoulder was his belt of multicoloured threads. Standing out from the dark shadows of the reflected corridor, was the Hatter's crystal blue jacket. Ribbons, bandages and a handkerchief burst from the reflection's pockets, and dangled unmoving next to its legs.

The mirror's frame was exactly as Alice's door's frame had been, simple dark wood. The door's gold gilded handle had also remained, but now it was fixed to the mirror's glass. The reflection gripped the long candle in its bandaged hand, as the scorching wax dripped down from the flame and soaked into the yellowed bandages. Its fingertips were stained with what looked like blood, as children's fingers do when they have been squishing wild berries. The candle's tiny flame was held close to its face, showing its dazed and rather miserable expression; that was not unlike that of the crushed-spirited Victorian flower sellers of London.

After Alice was done studying the creature, she whispered: "Am I right in thinking you are Love?"

"Yes." it replied truthfully, with a sweeter and more timid rendition of Alice's voice.

"Would you let me through, please?" requested Alice, still whispering.

The reflection paused for a moment and angled its head slowly to the left before uttering in a low voice: "What do you know of the swapping of hearts?"

Remembering her Pleasantness' warnings about Love, Alice knew that she would have to be patient. "I don't know a great deal about hearts; please let me through." she asked as politely as she could.

"Don't you want to know why you've been so heartless?" when the reflection spoke, it spoke quickly and quietly, as if it was pained my the sound of its own voice.

"I don't believe I've been heartless." replied Alice, doing her very best not to sound or become affronted.

"Yes you do." it insisted in the same shy rushed voice. "Throughout your time here in Limbo, you have not lamented Tarrant's absence once."

Alice didn't take the time to wonder how her reflection had read her mind, or indulge the squirming sensation of guilt in her stomach. Keeping the tone of her voice emotionless, Alice asked again: "I am aware of that; please let me through."

"But you are not aware _why _you feel that, or don't feel that, my pet." The reflection raised its voice slightly, taking no notice of Alice's request.

"No, I am not. Please-" Alice began, her civil tone faltering slightly.

"You want to know." interrupted the reflection unapologetically.

Alice took a moment to swallow her irritation and frustration, before replying doggedly: "I want to get through to my chambers."

The reflection gazed fixedly at Alice for a long moment, as if it were severely disappointed in her. Alice felt it to be rather disconcerting speaking with someone, when she couldn't see their eyes. It was unpleasant enough speaking with Cheshire when she could only see his grin. But speaking with masked people was simply uncomfortable. Alice wasn't sure why, it just was. Perhaps it allowed them to hide so much more from her, if they covered the windows to their soul and mind.

"I'm not willing to let you through until you let me tell you." the reflection spoke a little louder, as if she was shamed by Alice behaviour. "I feel it is very important that you know and understand this, pet."

"Alright." sighed Alice submissively, realising that this reflection would exceed her stubbornness. "I'll listen."

A sincerely pleased smile eased its self onto the reflection's face. When it spoke, it spoke as if it were describing the most beautiful thing it had ever seen; a miracle even: "Your heart is in Underland, with Tarrant and your shadow; which he is currently cradling in his arms." the reflection paused long enough for Alice to say something. When Alice remained silent, it gladly continued: "When you lay on the dance floor, I felt _my_ heart slip through my fingers - Unpleasantness and Pleasantness claim its _ours_, but they've never cared for it, so why should they have a claim to it? - they had no say when you gave him _my_ heart. When you wished to take all of his sorrow and grief, he gave you his broken heart; the weight you felt in your chest, it keeps you in Underland, my pet." Love spoke too quickly. Far too quickly for Alice to take any of her words in.

"But that doesn't explain why I don't miss him." Alice interjected, all whispering forgotten, the guilt broke her voice. This is not how she had expected Love to be.

"Please, just listen, pet." the reflection almost whined. "Our heart isn't ours anymore; it's Tarrant's. It beats within _his_ chest. All the sorrow and longing it would feel inside of you, right now, that you _can not _feel,is now being felt inside of him. He's feeling it for _us_. You gave it to him, pet." Alice did not like the way in which this creature spoke to her. It sounded almost competitive. As it was trying to make Alice feel inferior. "You left _three_ things in Underland: Your shadow, which quite frankly I'm glad to be rid of. Along with _his_ broken heart, and _our_ heart."

"But why would I leave his heart behind? I wouldn't do that. I love him." Alice insisted, feeling sobs creeping up the back of her throat. It sounded as if this creature was placing the blame on her for dying. As if she did it purely to hurt the Hatter. But Alice had only ever intended to relieve the Hatter of his pain, not give him hers. As she looked down, Alice could feel tears webbing the gaps between her eyelashes.

"Don't cry. It's not your fault you're weak, pet." said the reflection, her voice was truly sympathetic, but it only made Alice more upset.

"I'm not weak!" Alice almost growled, but the malice in her voice was barely strong enough to be heard.

"But you weren't strong enough to keep yourself from dying, were you, pet?" the reflection spoke to Alice as if it were speaking to a distressed child. "Besides, you couldn't have brought his heart here anyway. It refused to come. Or to put it another way; it wasn't willing to accept you were leaving. So it stubbornly stayed in its place, hoping that you would stay with it. But you weren't strong enough to stay, not even for the sake of his heart-"

"Please, stop lying to me." Alice fought to keep back her tears. This creature had to be lying. This made no sense, like the babblings of a mad man. Was it possible her Love had gone insane?

"I'm not lying, and you know I'm not, pet." its tone was empathetic, as it took a step back. "If you could just take a look at yourself, you'd understand how foolish you're being."

The reflection held the candle's flame close to her lips before softly blowing it out. When flame was extinguished, the reflection of Love disappeared instantly. Somehow, the corridor in the mirror remained illuminated, whilst the corridor Alice was standing in, remained as dark as the inside of a cow's stomach. Instead of depicting Alice's Unpleasantness, Love, or Pleasantness, the mirror now displayed Alice's exact reflection. As mirrors are supposed to do. As they usually do. It showed Alice as she was now: In the deep and light blue dress, with both eyes intact and semitransparent skin. Her left side, where the dagger had wounded her, was still completely see-through. But there was something else. Something Alice couldn't believe she had missed. There was another place where her body had become fully transparent. The left side of her chest was completely blank. Where her heart was meant to reside. As if someone had simply cut that part of her out. It was simply, gone. Alice raised a shaking hand towards the hole, where it hovered for a moment. Closing her eyes, Alice went to put a finger in the empty space. She placed her finger in the hole for a split second, before abruptly withdrawing it, grimacing. It had to be the strangest sensation; like when one loses their first tooth, and they stick their finger in the space where it used to be. It is not a feeling that is relished by many. A sensation of bare openness.

This had to be a trick. But it couldn't be, not really. She had no heart - or at least, she couldn't see it, or feel it.

"It is a mad idea Alice," said the stern voice of reason, from the back of Alice's mind. "to believe that something is still there, when you can't see, hear or feel it. A mad idea, birthed by only mad men and women."

Alice's reflection gradually faded away, before morphing into the reflection of Love once more. She had managed to relight the candle and looked very self satisfied. Self-righteous malicious satisfaction. Very cold. Very unloving. Alice couldn't believe that this is what she felt for the Hatter. She _knew_ that this wasn't what she felt for the Hatter, or what he felt for her in return. This had to be a trick - Maybe another ploy set in place by Death?

"You're still lying, you can't be my Love." Alice said plainly, as if she had never been more certain of anything else in her life. "You just can't."

The reflection winced backwards for a second, like a dog that thinks it is going to be beaten; before replying in a thoroughly offended tone: "How could you say that?"

"Love doesn't speak like you do." Alice spoke as if the reflection should know the information she was imparting already . "Love doesn't insult others, and it certainly doesn't gouge out other people's eyes; no matter how unpleasant they are." Alice's voice was the most mellifluous it had ever been; she didn't want to hurt this poor deluded creature.

It frowned back at her for a moment. Her expression was rendered unreadable, as the tight cloth pressed down on her features, restricting her emotions from showing.

"You've got me so wrong, pet." the reflection tipped its head forwards; its words seemed to stumble over each other as she spoke, as if they were disorientated and drunk. "I'm not always like this. How you expect me to be, is how I was. But now… What is Love without a heart to cherish? You gave my heart away, and in your weakness, left the replacement well out of my reach. You took everything and left nothing. I have nothing now, thanks to your flaws of debility. What is heartless Love, but bitter and empty words?"

Alice asked herself the same question, but her head was vacant of answers, as the question echoed and echoed, refusing to die away. Her reflection continued:

"Sometimes, I wish I was anything but blind, then I might have seen this coming…" As a scrunched up peace of paper slowly unfurls, the reflection crumbled inwards. It held the front of its wrists to its brow, as it slowly lost its posture, and sank down low. "How could I be so stupid?" the reflection wailed piercingly, as a warped record sounds in a cavernous room. Wet patches of tears seeped through the cloth over the reflection's eyes, as she twisted and contorted, like a snake that has swallowed barbed wire.

Alice stooped down so that her gaze was level with the reflection's. She felt souly responsible for the creature's anguish, and yet Alice felt obliged to feel more so. Feeling suitably powerless, Alice gingerly tapped on the glass of the mirror.

"Please, stop crying, I believe you." said Alice in all honesty. "Please, if you let me through, I can get the heart back. You can be the way you were before; as love should be." Alice voice had hope lingering within it - but her Love was deaf to such things, as she selfishly blocked Alice out. She yowled louder and louder, until the sound threatened to fill Alice's head and burst it. The sound travelled down the hallway, down the stairs, past the grandfather clock, and into the shadows of the entrance hall. Alerting anything that lurked in the darkness.

Heavy steps sounded on the stairs. Alice's head whipped round to face the top of the stairs; as she felt the adrenalin surging up her spine. The _thing_ downstairs had heard. The thing Alice had come to Limbo to face. Death.

"Please, please, be quiet!" Alice whispered - she almost hissed in her panic. But her reflection only screamed more vociferously. The steps were getting stronger and more frequent. And closer. Much closer. In desperation, Alice placed her hands on the glass of the mirror, over her reflection's mouth, and pressed down hard. But it would not be silenced.

"Please stop!" Alice cried out, pressing her forehead and forearms to the mirror. Love froze, as the tears dripped down from her jaw line, as melting icicles do on the edge of roofs. Silence fell slowly, easing its way into Alice's ears. The reflection ceased her crying, and mirrored Alice's position tentatively, before whimpering: "The footsteps have stopped."

The words sank slowly, as terrified men do into quicksand. The sparkling lights of Alice's eyes quivered with trepidation, as the rest of her semitransparent body remained utterly unmoving. Gripping the hairpin firmly, Alice could hear the floor boards creaking, about seven meters away, but did not look round.

"Alice…" Came a cold voice from the top of the stairs; that seemed to slip down Alice's throat, and penetrate her veins, before stilling and freezing her blood. Alice felt violated even listening to it. She would not turn round, as her entire form remained unmoving. "…The world skipping flaxen maiden, who has caused me no end of trouble. My brother, has always been too lenient with you." The repulsive voice confirmed Alice's fears; there was no mistaking, that this being was Death.

Alice rose from the floor, doing her best to cover the hairpin with her hands. Her anxiety rendered her movements slow and jittery; as pictures move in flick books, (or Victorian Penny Peep Shows). She turned to face Death, as her reflection remained cowering on the floor. When Alice's eyes met with the creatures form, she stifled a gasp; that made an awkward swallowing sound, as it squirmed in the back of her throat.

Alice's Pleasantness had warned her that Death would take the form of a living resident of the house; but somehow, it had slipped her mind. She had been concentrating so fixedly on getting through to her chambers, she had forgotten. Across the hallway, stood the form of her mother. The voice of Death played her mother's vocal cords to the most distasteful of tunes. Death of course, held Helen Kingsley's body in completely the wrong manner. Her lower half stood stiff and strait, draped in her mother's usual modestly coloured attire. But the upper half of her form hung forward and limp, like a puppet that has had its strings cut. The tips of Death's stolen fingers twitched restlessly, at the end of its dangling arms. Ivory white hair had broken free from its customary neat bun, and nearly completely hid her mother's stolen face from view. The head was craned to look uncomfortably upward against the slouch of the torso.

Alice stood gawping and mute for the longest of moments, before speaking to the mirror and pleading in an unsteady voice: "Please, you have to let me through."

But her reflection only sat crouched on the floor, rocking back and forth, like an asylum inmate, muttering to herself: "There's no point, there's no point…"

"If you don't let me through, I can never fix his heart for you. Isn't that worth opening the door?" Alice spoke through the corner of her mouth, and kept her eyes glued to Death in her mothers image. But her Love didn't respond, but continued babbling: "No point, no point…"

"Come now child, it's no use. The gibbering reflection is correct, there's no point in fighting me; Better men have tried." His slick voice emitting from her mother's lips, delved deep into Alice, and fondled roughly about her intestines. That was her mother's body; the one that had hugged Alice as a child and kissed her goodnight. The lips that had consoled Alice when her father died, and the heart that ached with worry every time Alice went missing. The thought dropped into Alice's mind: Her _real _mother didn't know where she was. If she died now in Underland, her mother would have no idea. Her mother whom she loved very much. A surge of hatred swept through Alice for this Death character. How dare he steal her mother's appearance. He stood still, with his head cocked curiously to the left. Alice glared at Death, her expression tauntingly strong and confident; before turning her eyes away from him, and asking her Love more forcefully: "Let me through, Love. "

"There'd be no point-" Love shook her head vigorously.

"Open it, I can fix this-" Alice began, but soon found her tongue tied, as she felt unnaturally warm breath on the back of her neck. It was so hot, Alice felt her skin swelter all over. A shadow cast itself over her, as Alice snapped her body round to face Death. He towered over her, with her mother's hands held against the mirror. Death held her mother's face but inches away from Alice's. The skin on her mother's face looked to be a lot more furrowed than Alice remembered it - but that wasn't her main focus. Her mother's eye sockets looked hollow, as the burnt and scorched charcoal black eyelids shrivelled inwards, creased and charred.

"Not only are you an _irksome little girl,_ but you are rude as well." as Death growled, her mother's neck quivered with the vibration of rage. At this close proximity, Alice could see that her mother's lips were stained with a black and slimy liquid; as if she had been carelessly drinking ink.

Alice held her ground, she stared right back at Death, wearing her battle face. "Love, let me through." snarled Alice, in defiance to Death, not even looking at her reflection.

Underneath the walls of tangled snowy hair, Death's expression hardened: "Feeling arrogant, are we child?" his rumbling voice brought with it a thick wave of heat, that pressed intrusively down on Alice face; as if her face was being forced next to a bonfire. "Not always been this way, have we? You child in a woman's armour." Her mother's hands slid slowly up the mirror as Death drew ever closer to Alice. She squeezed the hairpin so tightly it hurt, as her semitransparent knuckles turned white.

"Did you think of me on the night of the Frabjous day? Do you think of me now, when you're alone, in the dark, feeling vulnerable…" Death's oily voice emitting from Helen Kingsley's body, churned Alice's stomach almost unbearably.

"Love unlock this door!" Alice shrieked in desperation.

"I'm sorry?" asked Love, her voice was a little surprised, but casual, all sobbing forgotten.

"A vulnerable little lamb, trembles at the sight of the wolves teeth!" laughed Death maliciously, enjoying watching Alice struggle beneath him. He began to lean in torturously slowly - her mother's stolen lips, made slippery with unknown black fluid, moved in closer to Alice's.

"UNLOCK THIS DOOR!" Alice cried out so loud she pierced her own ear drums; Gripping the door handle behind her with her left hand, and the hairpin in her right. Holding herself as close to the wall as possible - for fear Death would touch her. Echoing in her head, her Pleasantness' words came clear as true Overland sunlight: _"If any being within this building moves to touch you, stab it with the hairpin, and sing." _And sing… Alice was positive she had forgotten all the joyous songs she used to know.

Death's lips were but a centimetre from Alice's as he whispered in a voice so low, it shook Alice's bones: "Goodnight, Alice Kingsley of London, and everywhere in-between." but Love babbled over him, as if his words meant nothing.

"But, the door was never locked." said Love hastily, her voice shaking with bewilderment. She had been sure Alice had known, all this time.

From that moment everything happened so quickly, Alice's thoughts couldn't keep up. Scrunching her eyes firmly, She ducked her head quicker than a concrete block sinking into water; and thrust the hairpin upwards. Death's stolen body toppled backwards and lent on the opposite wall as it emitted throaty clucks and squelching gurgles. To Alice's disgust, she witnessed the damage she had done. The hairpin's teeth had been driven right up through Death's stolen throat, at a perfectly vertical angle. The pointed tips of the hairpin's prongs poked up behind Death's stolen pearly teeth, as his mouth overflowed with dark blood. Dark thick cherry droplets dribbled down Death's stolen chin, to meet with the more powerful fountain of blood, spewing from the originally penetrated wound. One long dense river of redness ran down his stolen torso, and was now creeping down Death's plainly coloured skirt. The blood deeply stained the dress and seeped through to Death's creased and stolen skin. Blood streamed freely over Death's stolen and fidgeting body, but he did not cry out in pain. His sharp stolen fingernails scratched at his neck, in a frail attempt to remove the implement. But it was no use, the hairpin was wedged securely between Death's jaw and throat.

Alice watched for the shortest of moments with stiff lungs, before she wrenched the door open and slipped behind it; her reflection disappearing out of sight with her. But sooner than she could hear the click of the door after her - an enormously heavy weight came charging from the other side - Death trying to force himself in. Alice held her back firmly to the door, urging it to shut, as Death pummelled the empty glass on the other side. Alice knew what she had to do, but she couldn't. She just couldn't. She knew no songs of jest and happiness. Alice closed her eyes, and did her best to keep the door closed. But she could feel her strength depleting, faster than it ever had done before. Death beat harder and harder at the door, creating the rhythm of war drums; as the door opened wider and wider with every hit, prior to Alice closing the gap again and again. Soon he'd get through.

A song, a song, a song. Why didn't she know a song? If the Hatter were here, he'd know one. He'd know many. He had sung for the Red Queen, once upon a time, had he not? Alice's pupils shrunk. She remembered that song. She had always known that song. Leaning her head back against the door, projecting her voice to the ceiling, Alice began to sing, with a voice that was far from whimsical (she had never been a good singer):

"_Twinkle, twinkle, little bat!_

_How I wonder where you're at!"_

Now Death did scream, like an infant having its first sleepless night. His beats on the door instantly became weaker and less forceful. Alice continued singing, with a laugh lingering at the back of her voice, as memories of the Hatter flooded her head and seemingly nonexistent heart.

" _Up above the world you fly,_

_Like a tea-trey in the sky,"_

Death let out a final silk ripping, balloon screeching, glass shattering scream - before giving the door one last heavy whack. Alice continued singing teasingly, almost enjoying herself now; Her voice in tune with the Hatter's, of her memory.

"_Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle…"_

The footsteps of Death sounded in the hall, whilst the blood dripping from his neck and mouth pitter-pattered on the floor.

"_Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle…"_

They became further and quieter, as they faded away down the corridor; his gurgled and wheezing breaths filling the empty air.

"_Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle…"_

Death's foot steps died away, leaving Alice singing badly, but victorious.

**A/N, My throat felt weird writing this, hehe. This chapter gave me no end of greaf - I'm truly sorry it took me so long. Please tell me your thoughts, I really really want to know!**

**Also, I scetched a quick illustration for Chapter 7 if you want to take a look - http: / brideofmaggots. deviantart. com / art / Surrounded - by - Hatter - ness - 174480405**

**(Without the spaces in the link of course -_-, DAMN YOU FANFICTION!)**


	16. Once in a While

Chapter 14

_Once in a While _

The room shook vigorously; as if Alice were in a very frustrated child's doll's house. She gripped the doorframe in an attempt to steady herself, as the furniture knocked against the moving walls. Picture frames tumbled from the walls, the light of the flickering lamps reflected in their dull glass. Alice had heard stories of earthquakes in China; she knew that this was not one of them, but she assumed that the experience of being caught in one would be something like this. Unbeknown to Alice, this was no earthquake. This was Limbo breaking away from Overland. Alice stumbled across the unsteady floor and over to her dressing table, from which trinket boxes, hand mirrors and hairbrushes were fleeing like lemmings. Not taking any notice of her surroundings, Alice dug her fingernails into the wood of the desk, doing her utmost to keep it steady. The image in its wide and clear mirror captured Alice's attention quickly and effortlessly. What she saw in the dressing table's looking glass was no reflection; No characteristic of hers, no bedroom of hers, and certainly not a trick.

Through the mirror's glass Alice could see the scene in Underland. It was exactly as she left it. From her aerial view point in her quivering chambers, Alice observed the party in Witzend. With the golden and cream blood slicked dance floor, and the crowd of luminous white and frightened spectators; Alice found it hard to locate the Hatter. But once his form caught her gaze, it was very unwilling to let it go. His appearance of many vivid colours was as striking as ever. Alice's injured, unconscious and very nearly transparent body - complete with shadow - lay in his arms. Everyone present there looked scared stiff, as if they believed that one movement would break an intricate balance. An intricate balance that kept Alice with them. On the wrong side of the looking glass, back in Overland, Alice squinted to make out the Hatter's expression. Anxiety predominantly worked his expression, but flickers of fascination could be seen within his large green orbs of eyes. Pure, honest, nearly childish curiosity. Alice's slumbering adoration for her Hatter was abruptly reawakened at the sight of him - as it began to mould her full lips into the widest of grins. Her fingertips subconsciously tapped on the mirror's glass, as Alice made no attempt to conceal her joy at seeing the Hatter once again. It felt like an age since she had seen him last, but she knew that back in Underland, her transparent face was still wet with his and her mixed tears.

How was she to get back there? This mirror had to be her way back to Underland. The one she had fought Death to reach. Running the palms of her hands over the glass, Alice wondered how on earth she was going to make her way through it. If this looking glass was her only way back - her only way home - then it was most certainly locked. A locked windowed doorway; with no key hole nor door handle. How does one get through such an un-functional entrance? Looking for another doorway was not an option. Nor was accepting that she was not to get through…

She could knock.

"Lunacy," piped up the voice of reason, yet again, from the Alice's mind.

"It doesn't hurt to partake in acts of lunacy, occasionally; Once in a while…" Alice whispered back, to herself.

Clearing the dressing table's shaking surface Alice clambered, rather clumsily, on top of its cupboards. Crouching close next to the mirror Alice knocked cheerily on its glass. Nothing. Alice knocked again, calling out this time: "Please, let me in."

Ripples reverberated across the mirror's glass, disappearing when they hit the wooden frame, as if it were made of water. Dipping her fingertips into the liquid surface, Alice watched her view of Witzend wobble. Examining her hands, Alice saw that her body looked much more solid now. She was almost her full self now. Almost Alice. All she had to do was retrieve her heart; or be with it at least.

She went to breathe before delving into the looking glass, but still the place was airless. With no breath to hold, Alice closed her mouth, eyes and ears to the unsteady and juddering world around her. Holding her arms before her, she plummeted through the icy cool mirror's surface, and down into darkness. Hands and head first, skirts and ankles afterward.

Had Alice been more open to the universe round her, she'd have looked out of her window, and seen the patch of night peel away from Overland's sun. Or heard her mother scream downstairs, at the sight of her husband's precious, but now wrecked clock. Or felt the air around her thicken with oxygen, as Limbo was ripped away from Overland, taking any trace of Alice with it. But she hadn't seen or heard these things. She was gone.

x§x¨x©xªxXxªx©x¨x§x

Time scrutinised the soul brought to him at his home, and tutted. She stank of his brother. His introverted and increasingly cruel brother; who had failed in sending yet another soul to the Other Side. Time hated to work from home, his work was done for the day; Or it had been anyway. He had not anticipated that Alice's soul would make it through Limbo, so quickly, if at all. Tarrant had been right about her (at least), she was strong, and brave. Unsure of where to put it, Time placed Alice's soul on his coffee table. It was as small and bright as a candle flame, as it hovered inches above the tables mahogany wood top. Gold leaf patterns decorated Time's tidy but dusty abode; his neatly kept, small but cosy home. Time grimaced. From just looking at this soul's aura, he could tell exactly what had transpired between it and Death.

Time was well aware that his brother had become a foul creep, among other things. Lately he had changed his manner of working. Death had once been a hard working and honourable man, but no more. He had become malicious and sloppy with his eternal duty. Having grown weary of his lonesome and laborious task, Death now dealt with the souls of women quite differently. He was able to evict souls from their life with a single touch, and had done so for many years. A handshake or a pat on the shoulder had become customary. But now, if the soul assigned to him was a fair and attractive maiden, he would not restrain himself from a kiss. He would savour their screams, as they ran or cowered beneath him. Taunting the weak and feminine souls of the half-dead, had become something of a pleasure for him. Targeting only the pretty ones. After the many millennia of taking the lives of half-dead souls, any potential for guilt feeling within Death had fizzled out, years ago.

Time truly despised his brother of late. There was no doubt left in his mind now; his brother was a sick man. Time felt nothing but pity for the fine-looking women of Overland and Underland - who had to endure his brother lurching over them; with his kiss that tasted of rotten and decaying meats and fruit.

Examining Alice's bright light of a soul, Time felt a surge of gratitude towards her for dealing his brother such a grave injury. He felt it was a fitting punishment. The wretch should never have tried to kiss her, nor taken her mother's form. He had received less than what was coming to him, in Time's opinion; which seemed to count for nothing these days… Time sighed. It was not only feelings of gratefulness that were inspired at the sight of this soul, but envy too. Envy for her and Tarrant. That mercury stained mad man was very lucky indeed. The love that radiated from his and Alice's auras was inescapably strong. Time had seen the likes of which before, but had he never entertained the possibility, that the likes of which would be bestowed upon the Mad Hatter. The man was a stubborn idiot, incapable of controlling his emotions. How did Tarrant obtain such a beautiful and charming girl for his partner? Damn that lucky so and so.

Time had never been in love. Ever. And he had had forever, and still had forever to fall in love. But something within him told him that he never would. It didn't bother him in the slightest, though. And never would. Ever. But it would be nice, once in a while, for the notion of love to flirt with him; only occasionally.

Feeling lonely and hard done by, Time set about his last task of the day. And this would be his _last task _of the day. Everyone and everything else would just have to wait, because Time was taking a well deserved break. He may even have a cup of tea, with three sugars - really go crazy. Yes, that was the thing to do, after this last job.

Reaching into his inside pocket, Time procured Alice's previously snapped hourglass, empty of sand. He had snapped it rather neatly into two perfect halves - but now, he would fix it. Whilst Death's kiss stole a soul's life, Time's returned it to the living realms, and back to its living body. A skill he was rather proud of. Time held one half of the hourglass horizontally, next to Alice's little flame of a soul. A sudden and shrill popping sound filled the room, as loud as a clap of thunder. Alice's soul had been sucked into the hourglass' sand chamber; flashing brightly before melting into simmering pale sand, filling the hourglass' chamber. Now for Time's own magic.

Time drew his long piano player's fingers to his lips, and lightly kissed the tips of his thumb and forefinger. Using the same two fingers, he held the full and empty separated halves of the hourglass together vertically, by the weakest point of the hourglass - the middle. The fine sand sat at the bottom of the hourglass, whilst the bare chamber was held above it. He commenced rubbing his two moist and warm fingertips together over the centre of the broken hourglass, twirling and twizzling it round. Both sand chambers began to glow a natural buttercup yellow, brighter than any swarm of fire-flies. The entire room was lit by its warm and open glow. Smiling, Time relinquished the hourglass and placed it on the coffee table. He had repaired it flawlessly. Between the two sand chambers, the glass had fixed back to its usual fragile state; ready to be snapped when Alice's _true_ time came. Time gazed at it for a moment, half-amazed at his power and achievement. His kiss could heal all wounds. No other being could do that. He plucked the hourglass from the table once again, and shook it gently until the sand began to run steadily from one chamber to another.

Job done. When Alice awoke in Underland, Time would use his magic to grant Mirana and her nurses all the time they needed to heal her wounds. And as a form of apology for his brother's vile and appalling behaviour, Time would also help Alice's injury heal as quickly as humanly possible, so that she could make better use of her time in Underland. He was sure she would be grateful. Alice always did make very good use of her time; unlike some orange haired mad men Time could name. But as another favour to her, Time would also rinse Alice's soul and mind, of all her memories of Limbo. Her time in Limbo would be entirely forgotten. Time hated to be forgotten; it truly was his least favourite thing to be. But he felt it necessary to erase all memories of his brother from Alice's consciousness. He only wished he could do the same for his own mind. Alice was blessed to forget; That is of course, until they met again.

**A/N**** Okay, We are most definitely back in Underland in the next chapter! Woo! Yes, typos show I'm human, but please don't hesitate to point them out. (Don't worry, I won't label you a nit picker or a splitter of hairs)**

**I've noticed recently that there is a growing trend on fan fiction, of authors posting pictures of props and dresses from there stories on their profiles. I own the body swapping mirror from the 2nd**** chapter - if anyone wants me to post a photograph, just say. **

**Thank youuu so much for the wonderful reviews! (every time I come on this sight I look at my story, blink, and wonder how on earth I got so many reviews.) **


	17. No Cats Allowed On This Ward

Chapter 15

_No Cats Allowed On This Ward_

"Mr Hightopp, I must insist that you desist-" the young nurse shouted from inside Marmoreal's hospital ward, as she attempted to close the heavy double doors on the Mad Hatter: as he profusely tried to force his way in.

"But I must be with my poor broken Alice," the Hatter pressed, his eyes framed with deeply coloured circles of worry. "She-"

"I simply cannot allow you on this ward-" insisted the nurse, giving the door another shove, but she was a rather lean flimsy thing; so the Hatter was practically unhindered.

"But-" he attempted.

"Any persons of a questionable mental state _are not permitted inside_, whilst a surgical procedure is taking place-"

"That's ridiculous!" the Hatter piped up, his voice high, as he gaped back at her with offended eyes. "I would never disrupt the doctor's work, I-"

"You're disrupting it now!" growled the nurse, as she pushed the doors forward with all her strength, but the Hatter persisted to keep them open. He struggled to see what was going on inside the ward; but he could only see a group of nurses and doctors crowded round a bed, like vultures on a carcass. They spoke in hushed voices, deciding who would get the juiciest morsel. Vultures swarming on his poor injured, defenceless Alice. The nurse was lying, he didn't seem to be affecting them at all.

"Liar! I'm not hindering or disturbing or impeding them at all!" he yelled, pushing the doors with all his might, not looking in least bit frightening or angry; but taking on the demeanour of an oppressed child that is being lied to. The Hatter's form became almost completely diagonal, as his feet slid backwards, as he forced his arms forwards. Inside the ward, the tiny nurse mimicked his posture, her breast heaving with exhaustion.

"Yes, you, are! She is in safe hands!" panted the nurse in a strained voice, her arms beginning to tremble as she attempted to keep the doors from opening. The Hatter ignored her, he could sense that she was beginning to yield on the other side. But both of them held themselves firmly in place. The Hatter was not going to give up easily. He would not allow a company of unknown and therefore untrustworthy doctors, go at his Alice with sharp and twisted surgical instruments unsupervised. Behind locked doors and closed curtains, they could do all manor of unnecessary and painful things to her. Only to emerge hours later, with their white gloved hands held behind their white jacketed backs, and their mouths full of apologies, saying that "There really was nothing else they could have done." No. That was not going to happen. He would watch them, and make sure that their unsafe gloved hands could do no harm to his Alice.

"Please-" he pleaded, his voice quivering under the strain of holding the door open - this nurse really did make a obstinate doorstop.

"Look," snarled the nurse, scowling at the Hatter through the small gap between the doors; her patience worn thinner than rose petals. "I'm meant to be assisting the doctors treating _your Alice_, but I'm here, exhausting myself. They are one pair of hands short in there. You _are_ hindering Alice's treatment. Just stop, and leave us to do our work!"

"But you'll hurt her," the Hatter replied; his strength and voice faltering slightly, as he realised he wouldn't be able to be with Alice; at her side in her time of need.

"No, we'll fix her - which is more than you're able to do." retorted the nurse, as if she were speaking to a simpleton.

The Hatter abruptly stepped away from the doors, relinquishing his grasp on them. As the doors slammed shut on him, a cool burst of air was forced into his face, causing his unkempt red hair to blow back, emphasising the stillness of the rest of his body. On the other side of the door, within the ward, the nurse had clasped into a heap at the base of the door. The Hatter could hear her arise again and commence muttering irritably about him. That was why the Hatter didn't come to Marmoreal often - muttering.

One long dark shadow was cast down the tall and cavernous hall of Marmoreal's hospital wing, by the Hatter's unmoving and abandoned figure. He moved slowly over to the row of comfy waiting room chairs leading up the corridor, and sat next to the chair occupied by his wet and bedraggled hat. Sheets of rain stroked the high stained glass windows - studding them with racing cannibalistic droplets, that swallowed one another on their way down the window pane.

When Alice's form had once again become full and visible back at Witzend, it had instantly began to rain; as if the clouds, as well as the party guests present, had been cautiously holding their breath, until Alice had returned to her full Aliceness. For a whole twenty minuets Alice's body had been in a never-seen-before state - according to Mirana. No eyes that gazed upon Alice's transparent body understood what magics were afoot, and none professed to either. A unanimous decision was reached within seconds: No one was to move a muscle, especially the Hatter, as they awaited new developments within this phenomenon that was Alice's body. McTwisp had dutifully and frantically taken notes for The White Queen's nurses and future reference; his breathing dithering and unsteady. (his notes of that night would almost surely be indecipherable)

Under the gaze of every person present, the spirits and the stars, The Hatter had held her, terrified and amazed at the same time. His curiosity refused to be shunned, as he scanned Alice's body; which to him, looked like a mere pond reflection of its usual appearance. What could be keeping her there, in his arms? Who - or what - was watching over her? Whatever, or whoever it was, the Hatter was eternally grateful to them.

He could clearly see his arms beneath her, propping her up, shining through Alice's back. The image was burned on the forefront of his mind - Alice's ghostly and unconscious body. Her head had lolled right back, as if all the worries of the world had peen piled inside it, weighing it down and straining her neck. As for her breathing, there was none. Her chest had remained perfectly unmoving for the duration of the entire twenty minuets. Every voice in the Hatter's head, the mad and the sane, had been screaming: "She's dead! You fool! She's dead! Alice is dead, because you couldn't protect her!" The mass of jeering voices threatened to rip his tender heart and soul to shreds, as punishment for his failure to keep his vow. But no matter how loudly they bayed for his blood and happiness, the Hatter would not indulge these nemesis voices; to do so would be indulging madness, and forfeiting his sanity. The Hatter had grown rather fond of his sanity. He knew it wouldn't stay long. Its apperances had always been rare and fleeting. That had been the previous order. But it seemed that the Hatter's sanity was as fond of Alice as he was. It seemed to visit more often, now that she was there. Unfortunately, this meant that if Alice died, or left, his sanity would see no reason to stay. No matter how long he pleaded with it, his sanity would surely pack its bags and bid him sweet farewell, if Alice ever went away again.

But that would never happen. Alice would never die, because she was strong. The Hatter knew this deep within his heart - even if the fact escaped him sometimes - deep down, he knew.

Upon the return of Alice's Aliceness, a heavy sigh of relief was set free from every bulging set of lungs present. Raindrops descended upon the dance floor, diluting Alice's spilt blood thin; as the Hatter grinned a grin big enough to rival Cheshire's. Alice was breathing, slowly, but still breathing. She was alive! Had Alice's body not been in such a fragile and damaged state, the Hatter would have hugged her tighter than a starving python snake. Across the dance floor, it had become apparent to Mirana that the Oraculum had been rewritten. None of these new events had been depicted within its old prediction. The hands of fate were working in hers and Alice's favour, for now at least. She may not have the crown, but now she was able to help. For a brief moment of lunacy, Mirana thought that she was better off with out the crown, as if she were free without it. Lunacy.

With full authority, Mirana conducted her rather useless guards. The majority of which were sent back into the forest to search for her murderess sister. With a head as large as hers was, she couldn't be that hard to miss - _twice_. The remainder of the guards were instructed to stay with Mirana, as she puzzled over how to get Alice safely to Marmoreal for medical treatment. They could not simply carry her, for then they would have to bend her body, and her wound would be greatly irritated. They needed to keep her body as horizontal as possible. What they really need was a stretcher…

Inspiration struck Mirana as suddenly as a jolt of electricity. She glided over to one of the long and full buffet tables, and yanked the table cloth from its top. Mirana did this with surprising skill, as only a few glasses and nibbles fell to the floor, leaving the ice sculptures and champagne fountains unaffected and intact. After a moment's consideration, folding and tying of knots, Mirana had fashioned Alice a hammock-like stretcher from the table cloth. Two shamefaced guards took it from her, and marched over to the Hatter, who had taken no notice of the goings on around him. He had sat with Alice, as his eyes followed the miracle that was her breathing intently. Within his own bubble, every other sound had been muted, except for the sound of blessed air passing Alice's lips. But his bubble was popped rather abruptly, by the guards as they held the makeshift stretcher out, ready to receive the unconscious Alice. The Hatter gingerly lifted Alice's form and placed it on the stretcher. The dagger remained driven though her side as it poked through the bottom of the stretcher.

A parade of party guests leaked out of Witzend park and onto the wide beaten track to Marmoreal. Laying at the centre of the crowd, being carried by the guards was Alice, her serene expression being pelted by raindrops. At her side the Hatter kept pace with the guards, determined not to be separated from her. His eyes were fixed to her complexion, as he prayed that it would not turn transparent again. In a neat rim around them the party goers walked briskly, keen to get away from the ruined festivities. As they walked they talked amongst themselves and speculated over the events of that evening. Some had seen and recognised Stayne's dagger - and instantly concluded had it was him who'd meant to kill Alice. Other's had heard what Mirana had whispered as Alice began to fade. They had heard the name Iracey, and recognised it to mean Iracebeth of Crims. Could this be a sign of yet another coming war? Another Horunvendush day. With their old wounds reopened, the people of Witzend and Marmoreal tried to shoo away their doubt and fear. But this was increasingly difficult, with their Champion mortally wounded and their Queen stricken of her crown - again.

Trooping around the outer rim of their little parade, were about two dozen of the White Queens guards. Holding their weapons high and firm, completely ready and alert, shame still bubbling in their stomachs. Leading the quick moving precession was McTwisp, his legs beating against the earth with the power of a horse's, as he kept a secure grip on the stray crown. Whilst closely following behind the White Rabbit, was the bare headed White Queen. The relentless rain flattened her platinum hair close to her face (like the ivy that grows steadily up garden statues), and weighed heavily on her many gossamer skirts. Mud seeped into the rims of her fine gown as it clung close to her slim and breakable body. Because that's how she looked, breakable. And the most human she had ever looked, since the day she was birthed. Just another human, another soul among many. Her deep and dark eyes remained set to the Marmoreal shaped silhouette, that broke the unevenly forested horizon.

The crowd of solemn and ghostly white figures, led by the White Rabbit and White Queen, looked ominously like a funeral procession. With the seemingly sleeping Alice at its centre, her pale and peaceful face looking upward to the stars, which were watching her with uncharacteristic interest. To those who could see - which was very few indeed - Alice's soul was still blemished with the fingerprints of Limbo, Death, Time and the stars that had taken her there. The number of those who could see this were very small. The Oraculum of course, could see it. And so a change had to be made. On the new and rewritten Oraculum, this day's name had changed; from Llofruddiaeth-Pencampwr Day, to Anangladdgwyn Day. Something for the future monarch to puzzle and ponder over.

The tall and luminous walls of Marmoreal welcomed them openly. Once the parade entered the gates it scattered and split in all directions, like spilt marbles rolling across the floor. The party goers, most of which were the Queen's courtiers or crafters or servants, spread left and right as they retired to their chambers. And the people of Witzend, who once again, didn't feel safe in their homeland, had decided to take refuge in Marmoreal; and took to the spare rooms and empty turrets. But Mirana, the Mad Hatter and the guards carrying Alice, marched straight forward. As they moved through the castle's gardens and towards the hospital wing, the Hatter's flourishing movements set him apart from that of the ridged guards'. His bandaged and mercury stained hands glided swiftly though the air - whilst the guards' bodies remained stiff and still, except for their legs which moved mechanically in time with each other. They turned a few corners, ran down many spotless corridors before reaching the hospital wing. The ceilings were imperially tall and curved, like that of a cathedral. As Mirana walked across the tiled floors, her soaked skirts dragged on the floor, leaving a wet and shining trail, much like that of a snail. Taking no notice of the Hatter, Mirana and the guards stormed into the hospital ward, where they handed a sodden and unconscious Alice over to the doctors. But when the Hatter attempted to follow them, he was met by the most stubborn of doorstop nurses, and the doors where shut on him, before their heavy locks clicked into force.

Now the Mad Hatter sat alone, head drooped forward, as he held his hat by the brim. How long would the doctors keep Alice from him? Minutes? Hours? Days? That would be Time's decision. The Hatter found himself wishing he'd been more civil and polite towards Time - then maybe he'd be more lenient. But Time and him had always had a particular distaste for one another. Time had a pompous and particular feel about him. And he was the most tedious tea party guest. Forever droning on about the most dreary things - that had happened at last three lifetimes before any of the other party guests were born - causing them to spin tea cups on their saucers, and flick sugar cubes from sheer boredom. But his worst and most despicable trait, by far, had to be his tea hogging. The man must have no bladder; because he could quite comfortably drink four pots of tea, and have absolutely no desire to move, at all, for hours. The Hatter had often found himself staring into the face of his pocket watch, as its hands ticked torturously slow. Time was always the last to leave the table, and he took his sweet sweet self about it. But it didn't take Time too long to pick up on the bad feeling towards him (after about the seventh tea cup had been thrown at him with malicious intent.) He left in the most in the most insulted huff any of them had ever seen, remarking: "The manners in you beings, seem to get more and more watered down with each generation." Time had never got over their rudeness. The Hatter hoped that Time wouldn't be as petty as to take his Alice away from him, over something that happened so many years ago. How long can one man hold a grudge?

A smooth and pleasant voice interrupted the Hatter's thoughts: "Blatant discrimination, is what this is."

He looked up to see Cheshire scrutinising a notice pinned to the ward doors. His fat and furry body hovered just over a meter off of the ground, as he crossed his stubby little arms and held his long and bushy tale above his head. "Have you taken the time to read this sign Tarrant?"

"Hello Chess." replied the Hatter in an empty voice. He hadn't taken the time to read it. Why should he? Time was being particularly ungenerous with him.

"This is appalling." Cheshire shook his head slightly as he eyed the notice with utter distain. "Doctors these days…"

The Hatter remained silent, misery weighing heavily on his eyelids and brows. His Alice could still be dying; he wasn't in the mood for idle chitchat. Cheshire looked over at him and turned his nose up snootily. "Come now; desist with your sulking. You're not the only one who can't see her."

"You could," replied the Hatter, looking slowly up at Cheshire with large sad eyes. "You could use your evaporating skills quite easily."

"No, I couldn't," retorted Cheshire, wearily turning belly up in the air, examining the notice from an upside down angle. "If you'd read the sign, you'd know why."

The Hatter was quiet again. Moonlight shone extraordinarily brightly through the drenched stain glass windows. When the light hit Cheshire's coat it glowed white around his form, making him look fuzzy and magical. The Hatter found himself wondering what could possibly stunt this cat's experienced evaporating skills. He rose from his chair and stood with his old feline friend, as he examined the sign. In read as follows:

"_No felines of any nature, are to be permitted onto, into, above or below this ward. _

_For the safety of the souls of our patients, precautionary measures have been taken to ensure that no soul stealing cats enter the premises. Our gracious White Queen, Mirana of Marmoreal herself, has placed protective charms to impede any feline magics or powers within the ward._

_We also prohibit any persons or creatures of a questionable mental state, from entering this ward whilst any medical practise is taking place. _

_It is for the safety of our patients and medical staff that we enforce these rules. Thank you."_

"Absurd, isn't it?" said Cheshire talkatively. "I'm clearly not a soul snacking cat. I haven't even reached my final life yet-"

"Do you think I'd ever hurt Alice?" the Hatter interrupted abruptly, as if it strained him not to ask. The tone Cheshire had been holding aloft dropped significantly, as the air around them seemed to grow thicker. The Hatter's brilliant green eyes scanned over the last line of the notice again and again: "_It is for the safety of our patients," _Did they think that he would harm Alice, if the madness took him? Did everyone think that? Did he think that? Did Alice think that? He would never hurt her - would he? Of course not. But… The Hatter felt as if he were dangling over a deep shadowy abyss, with only his questions holding him there. His mental state was certainly questionable. He himself had questioned it many a time, but it had repeatedly replied with mixed signals. But Cheshire, on the other hand, was always direct and honest; sometimes painfully so.

"No lies." the Hatter prompted an answer. He turned to face his slit pupiled friend, who instantly evaporated into swirls of quickly disappearing smoke. The Hatter swiftly turned round to see the fat cat by the waiting room chairs, holding his precious hat in his small soft paws. Cheshire coveted it above all fine and exquisite human objects. He glided, like a seal swims underwater, back up to the Hatter until he was at the mad man's head height. Holding his short little arms out to their full capacity, Cheshire presented the hat to his second oldest friend.

"You'd best put your hat back on." he said smoothly, a purr resonating through his voice. "It seems to keep those sorts of foolish queries were they belong."

The Hatter sceptically took his hat with a quizzing expression. Cheshire rolled his bottle-green lamp-like eyes, before gliding past the Hatter and towards the long windows.

"I don't believe you'd ever, in a million tea times, hurt your dear Alice." Cheshire wore a knowing, and almost proud, expression across his face. "Alice is never at risk when she's with you; for she can silence your madness with one word and soothe your spirit with one glance. Be sure Tarrant, you'd be a true idiot to doubt her love for you - or yours for her. And if that doesn't stop you having violent outbursts, then I don't know what will."

The Hatter stood at the foot of the huge windows and placed his hat on his head, looking blissfully reassured. Cheshire had never spoken to him like that before; with all contempt and smugness gone. The Hatter turned to his friend with a warm smile, as he opened his mouth to offer a word or two of thanks. But the feline cut across him:

"I shan't be saying anything of that sort again," he remarked as if describing an unpleasant dining experience. "It made me feel all… mushy." he made a childish face of disgust before continuing to gaze out of the window.

The rain thickened and thickened, until it was near impossible to see past the gardens of Marmoreal. The whole of Underland had been obscured by curtains of a relentless downpour, glistening in the moonlight like diamonds. The Hatter had never before been aware of how many different shades of grey there were, until tonight. Dense grey rain clouds, lighter grey rain, even lighter grey mist and darker grey shadows. This night time was simply grey. And so, the Hatter was quite alarmed to see a pair of emerald green eyes looking up at him from Marmoreal's gardens. They hovered above a simple marble bench, situated in front of a bulky bush of white roses. A body slowly materialised around the eyes. No doubt about it, this was an evaporating cat. It was large but unhealthily skinny, its skin stretched tightly over its bones. Ash black matted and dirty fur covered its body, as if its coat was made up of the darkest of shadows. Its large ridged ears and hypnotising eyes faced Marmoreal's hospital ward's windows intently. The look in its eyes was so intensely greedy, it might as well be salivating.

This was a Soul Stealer cat. This is what becomes of dishonest and cruel felines, when they have lost eight of their nine lives. Jealous that so much of their life has been frittered away, Soul Stealers pray on the weak and dying. For when a cat reaches its last life, it is blessed with the power to see the state of all living souls, people's, animals' and plants', like a sixth sense. But, as always, a duty is attached to this blessing. If a soul is injured away from home, and it is destined to die away from home, then it becomes increasingly difficult for Time to locate that soul. And so, loyal, true and honest cats who are on their last life of nine, will dutifully lead the lost soul to Time. These are apply named Soul Furriers. With their thick silver coats and pale crystal blue eyes, they are easily distinguishable from common house cats. But these wonderous creatures are very rare indeed, for the majority of cats are vain and selfish creatures. Most would rather steal a soul, than go out of their way to ensure it has a safe passage over to the afterlife. This is one of the many things, that saddens Time on a daily basis.

Both the Hatter and the Cheshire Cat had pinpointed its striking eyes underneath the dark cloak of night. They were several floors higher than it as they glared hostilely down at it.

"Would I be terribly mistaken in thinking that is a-" the Hatter whispered cautiously into Cheshire's pointed ear.

"No, you wouldn't." he cut across with a slight snarl.

Worry sank suddenly into the Hatter's stomach, but he refused to acknowledge it. As he spoke his voice jittered as his slight lisp became more prominent: "It wouldn't be here for…"

"It most certainly is." Cheshire apologetically confirmed the Hatter's fears. This vile animal was here to steal Alice's soul.

"But it couldn't get into the ward," posed the Hatter, his voice laced with unsure hope. "There are protective charms on it, set by our Queen."

Cheshire gave the Hatter a "I-wouldn't-count-on-it" kind of look before saying warningly: "These are desperate and therefore fierce creatures. If it wants Alice's soul, it may well find a way around Mirana's enchantments-"

"You mustn't call-" he began to protest at the mention of the White Queen's first name.

"She's no longer our Queen, Tarrant." snapped the Cheshire Cat superciliously. He had never been fond of Mirana, and had always thought her to be a weak, and frankly useless leader.

"Then what are we to do?" asked the Hatter desperately, as he tore his eyes from the Soul Snatcher cat, and took a fearful step back from the window.

Cheshire went to say something, but was interrupted by a loud moan emitting from the hospital ward. It was Alice. She was awake. Whilst the Hatter rushed to press his ear to the doors, Cheshire kept his gaze set on the Soul Stealer outside. Through the miniscule gap between the double doors the Hatter could hear the most muffled of words:

"You've been dealt a grave injury, Alice." came the soft voice of Mirana

"We're ready with the ointments and bandages ma'am." Came the eager voice of the doorstop nurse.

"And we need to remove the dagger as soon as possible." Continued the voice of the Queen sympathetically.

"Ma'am, we can't stall much longer." came a stern male voice of a doctor.

"It's going to hurt." Mirana warned Alice quickly.

Many more voices spoke over one another, so that the Hatter couldn't differentiate between them. Like trying to separate a mass of tangled threads, it becomes difficult to distinguish one from another. But the mass of voices were quickly silenced by the quiet, and defiantly frightened voice of Alice:

"Where's the Hatter?" her voice was very laboured and strained - the Hatter could tell it hurt her to speak.

There was a silence among the doctors and nurses, before Mirana spoke soothingly: "He's just outside. He'll be with you when we're through with your treatment."

"Ma'am I must insist," came the same gruff male voice, more impatiently this time.

"Alright," Mirana sighed. "Alice I'm going to remove the dagger now, please try not to tense your body too much-"

"I can't…" began Alice voice, but it soon faltered. Mirana took no notice of her.

"On the count of three," she said steadily, and almost emotionlessly. "One,"

The Hatter felt his heart and lings turn stiff and still in his chest, as his body remained immaculately still and flat against the doors.

"Two-"

Alice did not get the merciful second of three to prepare herself as Mirana yanked the dagger from her side. And almighty howl of pain burst from Alice and reverberated throughout the cavernous and echoing walls of Marmoreal. The Hatter let out an involuntary dog-like squeak, as his fingers curled together against the wood of the door. Had he been removing the dagger, he would have allowed her the second of three. He continued to listen.

Still by the window, Cheshire closed his eyes and grimaced for Alice's pain. When he reopened them, he noticed something. The Soul Stealer cat outside seemed oblivious to it, but the rose bush behind it was rustling, ever so slightly.

"Tarrant, take a look at this." Cheshire beckoned him in a hushed voice. But he didn't come. Instead the Hatter strained himself to hear what was going on inside the ward; but all he could hear was the cluttering of jars, bottles and surgical instruments.

"Tarrant!" whispered Cheshire more sharply.

The Hatter gave up on his attempts. It was futile to try and make out and separate all the dissimilar noises. Knowing that the doctors would not hurt his Alice while Mirana was present, he returned to the Cheshire Cat's side. His eyes instantly landed on he leering Soul Stealer cat in the gardens. It grinned a small yellow toothed grin as it shook its pointed bones readily. But before it could do anything else, the Hatter and Cheshire witnessed one of the most unexpected sights of their lives.

Out from within the quivering rose bush, sprung a syrup eyed, pink and purpled furred cat. The body snatcher Gael. Her quartz claws were bared sharp and ready, as she flew through the air and landed on the Soul Snatcher cat. The skulking and shadowy cat was taken quite by surprise. As it was pounced on it instantly tried to shake the feral feline off, but its endeavours were unsuccessful. Her claws had hooked themselves deep into the dark cat's skinny flesh, as it squirmed and screeched in protest. As it writhed under the ragged cat's weight and force, it flicked its head back and bared its long neck. Both the Hatter and Cheshire had their breath caught at the back of their throats, as they watched the ragged cat ruthlessly sink her teeth into the Soul Snatcher's neck. Its blood was so dark it was almost black, as it ran down from its neck and over the dying creature's chest and stomach. Under the ragged cat's honey eyed glare, the Soul Snatcher twitched pitifully, as its killer's jaw remained firmly clamped on its throat; as tight as a vice. It was almost brutal. Hemanite black eyelids closed slowly over its dimming green eyes. When its scrawny body fell limp, the ragged cat relinquished it from her firm bite and unhooked her claws.

Its black, and now dead body, lay on the stunningly white marble bench. After a short moment its form began to crumble, like a hollow burnt log, after the flames have clamed as their own. The Soul Snatcher's body was swiftly reduced to ash, as the ragged cat sat neatly watching it, with uncontained interest. The wet raindrop dusted wind blew the pile of ashes up into the air; and as the ragged cat's gaze lifted to follow them, her golden eyes met with Cheshire's, as he gawped out of the window in awe. For the first time in years, Cheshire felt nervous under the gaze of a female. The ragged cat smiled up at the two of them, standing like sentinels in the window. Her smile was brief, before he bounded from the marble bench and trotted away, and back into the undergrowth. A satisfied expression worked her face, as she held her tail in the air in the most ladylike of fashions.

Back in Marmoreal's hospital wing, the Hatter and Cheshire stood as still as boxed puppets. A heavy silence surrounded them, before it was broken by the Hatter's gawping voice:

"I think, I may have underestimated your lady friend…" he admitted, his insides feeling uncomfortably empty with shock.

"I believe I may have made the same underestimation." Cheshire replied steadily, as he attempted to slightly less gormless.

**A/N**** Alright, alright enough of my bogus mythology. So sorry this was so long and plot-like, but in the next chapter the Hatter and Alice will be reunited. **

**The names of the days are a mishmash of Welsh words (since most of Alice Through the Looking Glass was written in Wales) The first one (Llofruddiaeth-Pencampwr) is **_**"Llofruddiaeth y Pencampwr"**_** which basically translates as: " The Murder of the Champion." And the second one (Anangladdgwyn) is **_**"Yr An-angledd Gwyn" **_**which means: "The White Un-funeral." **

**As always, I am truly desperate to know what you think! So please, please, please for heaven's sake review! Thank you muchly for reading ^_^ xxx **


End file.
